


remind myself to breathe, my heart to beat

by AureliaAstralis



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Arrow (TV 2012), Batman - All Media Types, Fantastic Four (Movies 2005-2007), Marvel Cinematic Universe, X-Men (Movies)
Genre: 10+1 Things, 5+1 Things, Alien Darcy, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Daemons, Alternate Universe - Fans & Fandom, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Idols, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Mr. & Mrs. Smith Fusion, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Zombies, Angel & Demon Interactions, Angel/Demon Relationship, Arranged Marriage, Asgardian Darcy, Avenger Darcy, BAMF Darcy, BAMF Darcy Lewis, Bartender AU, Bartender Darcy, Body Swap AU, Challenge Response, Crossover Pairings, Desert Island Fic, Dream Sex, Elevator Meetings AU, F/F, F/M, Female Loki, Fight Club - Freeform, Fraternities & Sororities, Gen, Genderbending, Human Loki, I Don't Even Know, Inhuman Darcy, Inhumans AU, Just putting it there to be extra safe, Kingsman AU, Love Letters, M/M, Magic, Magic Spell AU, Male Darcy, Matchmaking, Medieval-ish AU, Meet In A Dream AU, Meet-Cute, Meet-Ugly, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mistletoe, Morning After, Multi, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Noble/Peasant AU, Oh who am I kidding barely medieval, On the Run, Online Relationship, Orphan AU, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Outer Space, Rare Pairings, Reincarnation, Role-Play Sex, Seven Minutes In Heaven, Sex Pollen, Shapeshifting, Sharing Clothes, Snowed In, Sort of? - Freeform, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Space Pirates, Space Royalty AU, Spin the Bottle, Superhero Darcy, Swanmay!Darcy, Swanmays, Threesome - F/F/M, Timeline What Timeline, Vampire Darcy - Freeform, Vampires, Walk Of Shame, because 5 wasn't enough, fake identity, handcuffed together AU, meddling siblings, misunderstandings in love, not really but its kind of office romance?, of sorts, office romance AU, orphan darcy, to 1940s America!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-10 00:57:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 59,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3270809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AureliaAstralis/pseuds/AureliaAstralis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“Then love knew it was called love, and when I lifted my eyes to your name, suddenly your heart showed me my way.”</i> || <b>30 day rare pairs challenge</b></p><p>18. <b>orphan au</b> + inhumans au, darcy lewis x skye<br/>19. <b>vampire au</b> + misunderstandings in love au, darcy lewis x edwin jarvis<br/>20. <b>magic spell au</b> + matchmaking au, darcy lewis x pietro maximoff<br/>21. <b>superhero au</b> + x-men crossover, darcy lewis x erik lehnsherr<br/>22. <b>online relationship au</b> + fake identity au, darcy lewis x steve rogers x bucky barnes<br/>23. <b>mythical creature/human au</b> + x-men crossover, darcy lewis x wade wilson<br/>24. <b>mistletoe au</b> + spiderman crossover, darcy lewis x peter parker<br/>25. <b>high school au</b> + fantastic four crossover, darcy lewis x johnny storm<br/>26. <b>elevator meeting au</b> + fashion industry au, darcy lewis x pepper potts<br/>27. <b>body swap au</b> + star trek au, darcy lewis x jane foster<br/>28. <b>genderbent au</b> + role reversal au, darcy lewis x loki<br/>29. <b>clothes sharing au</b> + alpha/beta/omega dynamics au, darcy lewis x clint barton x bobbi morse<br/>30. <b>zombie au</b> + daemon au, darcy lewis x lance hunter</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. steam and syrup (darcy x tony)

**Author's Note:**

> This is me playing fast and loose with the prompts, pairing up Darcy with various characters of the MCU, as well as various characters from other TV/movie/comic fandoms. 
> 
> Each chapter will feature a different pair, so check back for new updates!
> 
> FULL LIST:  
> 1\. **coffee shop au** \+ corporate espionage au, darcy lewis x tony stark  
>  2\. **idol/fan au** \+ mma fighter au, darcy lewis x sif  
>  3\. **anonymous love letter au** \+ harry potter au, darcy lewis x brock rumlow  
>  4\. **angel/demon au** \+ x-men crossover, darcy lewis x warren worthington iii  
>  5\. **bartender au** \+ shield recruitment au, darcy lewis x phil coulson  
>  6\. **spin the bottle au** \+ summer camp au, darcy lewis x sam wilson  
>  7\. **stuck someplace together in winter au** \+ x-men crossover, darcy lewis x logan howlett  
>  8\. **sex pollen au** \+ time travel au, darcy lewis x peggy carter  
>  9\. **matching soulmate markings au** \+ batman crossover, darcy lewis x bruce wayne  
>  10\. **deserted island au** \+ arrow crossover, darcy lewis x oliver queen  
>  11\. **meet in a dream au** \+ reincarnation au, darcy lewis x jemma simmons x leo fitz  
>  12\. **arranged marriage au** \+ medieval au, darcy lewis x fandral  
>  13\. **handcuffed together au** \+ mr. and mrs. smith au, darcy lewis x grant ward  
>  14\. **stripper au** \+ sex dream au, darcy lewis x thor  
>  15\. **office romance au** \+ superman crossover, darcy lewis x clark kent  
>  16\. **seven minutes in heaven au** \+ college au, darcy lewis x natasha romanoff  
>  17\. **noble/peasant au** \+ space royalty au, darcy lewis x peter quill  
>  18\. **orphan au** \+ inhumans au, darcy lewis x skye  
>  19\. **vampire au** \+ misunderstandings in love au, darcy lewis x edwin jarvis  
>  20\. **magic spell au** \+ matchmaking au, darcy lewis x pietro maximoff  
>  21\. **superhero au** \+ x-men crossover, darcy lewis x erik lehnsherr  
>  22\. **online relationship au** \+ fake identity au, darcy lewis x steve rogers x bucky barnes  
>  23\. **mythical creature/human au** \+ x-men crossover, darcy lewis x wade wilson  
>  24\. **mistletoe au** \+ spiderman crossover, darcy lewis x peter parker  
>  25\. **high school au** \+ fantastic four crossover, darcy lewis x johnny storm  
>  26\. **elevator meeting au** \+ fashion industry au, darcy lewis x pepper potts  
>  27\. **body swap au** \+ star trek au, darcy lewis x jane foster  
>  28\. **genderbent au** \+ role reversal au, darcy lewis x loki  
>  29\. **clothes sharing au** \+ alpha/beta/omega dynamics au, darcy lewis x clint barton x bobbi morse  
>  30\. **zombie au** \+ daemon au, darcy lewis x lance hunter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **coffee shop au** \+ corporate espionage au, darcy lewis x tony stark

Darcy had just gotten out of class, and was on her way to work when she got Jane’s texts, a flurry of messages that made people send annoyed looks in her direction at the continuous chiming of her phone.

**Jane Foster** , 1:56 PM  
DARCY

 **Jane Foster** , 1:57 PM  
YOU NEED TO COME RIGHT NOW 

 **Jane Foster** , 1:57 PM  
LIKE NOW 

 **Jane Foster** , 1:57 PM  
I CANT

 **Jane Foster** , 1:58 PM  
ALSDFKJLASDKFJ

 **Jane Foster** , 1:58 PM  
IS IT LEGAL TO KILL SOMEONE 

 **Jane Foster** , 1:58 PM  
ASPHYXIATION 

 **Jane Foster** , 1:59 PM  
VIA ESPRESSO BEANS

 **Jane Foster** , 1:59 PM  
HELP ME BURY THE BODY 

 **Jane Foster** , 1:59 PM  
I HATE HIM

 **Jane Foster** , 2:00 PM  
DARCY 

 **Jane Foster** , 2:00 PM  
WHERE ARE YOU 

There was a blissful break when she shoved her way onto the subway car, but the moment she stepped back onto the platform, she gave up and called Jane.

Jane picked up, and before she could speak Darcy hurriedly cut her off. “Before you say anything, just FYI: you’re going to be paying the overcharge bills for my text messages this month.”

“Fine, fine,” Jane said distractedly, “but Darcy, there’s this new coffee place across the street and the owner is such an asshole and he said the shop theme was stupid and I need you to – y’ to – to – ”

“Whoa, whoa, slow down there, bosslady.” Darcy heard Jane take a few mouthfuls of air. “Okay, so new competitor, owned by a dickwad. What’s the sitch?”

Jane didn’t even hesitate. “I need you to go scope out the place.”

Darcy blinked slowly. “What, like spy on it?”

“Isn’t that what I said?”

“Okay…” She stopped at the corner of 47th, right across the street from Bifrost Kaffe, and saw Jane gesturing wildly in the shop window, mouthing what looked like the word ‘ _NO_.’ “… So why exactly are you flailing around like a crazy lady?”

“He can’t see you come in here!” Jane’s voice hissed in her ear, and Darcy looked on the other side of 6th Avenue to see a sleek storefront, the chrome and glass providing an interesting contrast to Bifrost’s old industrial aesthetic of brick, wood, and wrought iron. “The asshole kicked out Ian when I tried to send him over to do some scouting. Just go inside and tell me what it’s like – we need to know what we’re up against!”

“And the dickwad won’t kick me out why…?”

Darcy could practically hear the eye roll. “Are you really asking me that?”

“So what, pretend like I’m an unemployed hipster writing sad poetry, and flash him my tits if he comes over?” Darcy mused, but turned away from Bifrost and crossed the street towards Stark Espresso Bar.

“Or something like that,” Jane muttered absentmindedly, and Darcy giggled. “If they ask why you’re taking pictures say it’s for Instagram or Facebook or something – I’ll give you the day off, just make sure you get down their drink menu and food selection and shop layout and decorations and – " 

“Everything, basically.” Darcy sent Jane a discreet thumbs up and a grin. “Got it, bosslady, I’ll send reports. _Ciao_.”

She hung up before Jane could reply, opting to pretend like she didn’t see Jane sticking her tongue out at her through the window, and pushed open the door.

It wasn’t too crowded, as it was that odd lull between the lunchtime rush and late-afternoon coffee breaks, but it was respectably busy, as the rumbling of the coffee grinder and hiss of steaming milk made her smile. She dumped her tote bag at a table near the window, giving her a good vantage point of the whole shop as well as Bifrost across the street, and went up to the counter to place her order.

“A large cappuccino and two raspberry tarts, please.” The smiling man at the counter was sweet and nice – although Darcy had to wonder at what kind of parents would name their kid Happy, even if he was aptly named – and brought the entire order to Darcy’s table on a white ceramic tray that made her inner hipster salivate. Two perfect raspberry tarts were plated next to a wide-bowled cup, complete with a steel coffee stir-stick, fancy napkins with the shop logo monogrammed across the bottom, and both raw and refined sugar in little porcelain dishes. The gorgeous little silhouette of the New York skyline streaked across the foam of her cup only made it all that much better.

She took a quick aerial shot after rearranging the contents, filtering the photo through a photo-editing app before sending the image off to Jane. The response was instantaneous – an entire paragraph of poop emojis.

Darcy pulled out a book and settled in – alternating between Plato and her snack, save for the occasional upward glances to scribble down the shop menu in the margins of her book. She took a trip to the bathroom to make a rough sketch of the café on the inside of her forearm, ordered a double shot of espresso and a croissant after the late-afternoon rush hour passed, and spent the next couple hours people watching and using her book to hide her phone, as she discreetly took pictures of the décor and people wandering in and out.

Each picture she sent to Jane got a bunch of angry emojis in reply, as well as the obligatory paragraph of poops.

She was in the middle of composing an appropriate response when she saw a shadow fall across her phone, and looked up to see a dark-haired man smiling at her cheekily, facial hair groomed in an odd way that somehow worked on his face, with two cups and a cell phone balanced in his hands.

“Mind if I join you?” She couldn’t even reply before he dropped into the seat next to her, placing one of the cups in front of her as he took a swig of the other. He hummed in satisfaction, licking his lips. “Ahh… that’s the stuff.”

“By all means, make yourself at home,” Darcy said, raising an eyebrow, but she couldn’t stop the small smile of amusement. He was stupidly attractive, even if he probably had more than a couple years on her – there was a little grey at his temples, and laugh lines around his eyes – but then again, she had always been a sucker for older men.

“So that coffee comes with a condition,” he said, and Darcy paused with the cup halfway to her mouth.

“Yeah?” She placed the cup down warily, pushing it away for good measure. “What’s that?”

He grinned at her. “Let me take you out to dinner.”

Darcy’s smile dropped. “You can have your coffee back.”

“Hey, not trying to be creepy or anything.” He held his hands up innocently. “Look, I’ve just seen you around before – wanted to ask you out before but I couldn’t. So if you’re not interested, no hard feelings, keep the coffee, I’ll go – but I’d like to get to know you, if you’re up for it.”

She stared at him suspiciously, before unbuttoning her cardigan, watching as his earnest expression turned decidedly more strained as his eyes fought the instinct to fall down to her cleavage. She smirked and leaned forward, giving a view she knew most guys would cave at, and was surprised when he muttered, “Fuck it,” and just leered for a good thirty seconds.

She didn’t know whether to be offended or to laugh, especially when he looked up at her and shrugged. “I mean, you offered.”

“Alright, that’s on me, I can admit that.” She leaned back, re-buttoning her cardigan. “But where exactly have you seen me? Because I _know_ I haven’t seen you.”

“You work in the coffee shop across the street.” Darcy froze in surprise, and the man smiled. “I saw you through the windows last week. Dropped by today, only you weren’t there.”

“I got the day off, had some work to do. Figured I’d check out the new place across the street.” She shrugged. “What did you say your name was again?”

“Never said it.” His grin turned cheeky. “I’ll tell you if you say yes, Darcy Lewis.”

“Okay, the creepiness is coming back.”

“Your name is on the cover.” He tapped the closed book on the table.  

“Less creepy.” She narrowed her eyes. “Why should I say yes?”

“Because _you’re_ hot and smart, and _I’m_ hot and smart, _and_ we both work in the coffee business – see how much we have in common already?” His puppy dog look was entirely false, but she could feel herself caving under that pout.

“Flattering as you may be, you gonna try telling me you’re some kind of barista?” She snorted, pointedly looking at the expensive watch on his wrist. “ ‘Cause I don’t know any barista that can afford something like that.”

“I’m in more of a managerial position, really.” He whipped out a tag, fingers covering his name, but it definitely matched the one she saw on the barista at the counter. “Say yes.”

She justified her moment of weakness as gathering intel on the competition – the way _Jane_ wanted her to do – with the added bonus of getting a free meal and maybe some good sex, because she would bet her left arm that the man was good with his hands. And Stark Coffee Company was known for its extensive background checks on its employees, especially after one of its board members tried killing the ex-CEO – the guy couldn’t be _that_ psycho, right?

“Okay.” He grinned, looking triumphant and he tossed the tag at her, and she read the neat print. “ _‘Tony S.’_ ” 

Out of the corner of her eye she saw him texting on his phone, fingers flying across the screen before he smiled in satisfaction. “I love it when I win.”

Darcy furrowed her eyebrows, opening her mouth to ask, but was cut off by the chime of her phone.

 **Jane Foster** , 7:26 PM  
THE ASSHOLE KNOWS  
MISSION ABORT MISSION  
ABORT FLY YOU FOOLS

She looked across the street, seeing Jane flailing her arms again, and when the man snickered she turned to see his smug grin. “Wait, what?" 

He only smiled again cryptically, sending another quick text, and Darcy got a message from Jane only a few seconds later.

 **Jane Foster** , 7:27 PM  
YOU SAID YES TO A DATE  
WITH TONY STARK HOW  
COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME 

“Tony… Stark.” Slowly, she looked up to meet his smug expression. “… Exactly what is it you do again?”

“Technically, I own 51% of the shares of Stark Coffee Company.” He drained his coffee and nabbed her still-full cup. “But I like to drop by for surprise inspections, especially when there are pretty girls involved.”

Darcy looked to Bifrost across the street at Jane’s wild gesturing through the window, then back to Tony’s face. “Oh no.”

 “You did say yes.” He smiled brilliantly. “No take backs, Lewis.”

* * *

**Jane Foster** , 7:31 PM  
WAIT THIS IS GOOD PUMP  
HIM FOR INFORMATION 

 **Jane Foster** , 7:32 PM  
DARCY

 **Jane Foster** , 7:32 PM  
STEAL HIS RASPBERRY  
TART RECIPE I WANT IT

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jane's epic love for science -> Jane's intense passion for her little coffee shop


	2. a kiss with a fist (darcy x sif)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **idol/fan au** \+ mma fighter au, darcy lewis x sif

Darcy got roped into New York City’s underground fight scenewithin the second month of her being in the city, when she fell asleep on thebus and got dropped off in a part of Brooklyn she didn’t recognize. There was awarehouse down the street, white light flooding through the shallow windowsnear the roof, and Darcy only had to take one step inside to be mesmerized.

It was an MMA fight, that she could tell, but the fighterswere a tall, gorgeous woman with long black hair and a broad blonde man, wholooked like he could’ve been on the cover of a magazine. The woman, despite being half the man’s size, darted between the blonde’s hesitant punches like a snake before doing some complicated grappling move that put the man in a chokehold with – _sweet baby Jesus_ – her thighs and forearms. It ended quickly after, with the man down on his back, hand pounding the mat, while the woman wore a smile that reminded Darcy of a satisfied cat.

“Winner of round eight,” the commentator boomed, thrusting the woman’s fist into the air, “THE GODDESS OF WAR!” The woman yelled a war cry as the crowd went wild, and Darcy couldn’t help but applaud loudly as people swarmed towards the dark-haired woman as she jumped off the raised ring.

Darcy fidgeted at her place in the doorway, biting her lip as she debated on whether to stay or leave, but an amused voice made her jump. “First match, huh?” 

“Is it that obvious?” She grinned weakly, and turned to see a stocky blonde man with a nasty looking black eye, butterfly bandages taped across a cut on his forehead and a bruise blooming on the side of his mouth. “Oh god, are you – ?”

The man waved it off. “ Eh, it’s alright, I’m used to it.” He cracked his neck from side to side, letting out a slow sigh. “Not as young as I used to be, but it’s all good. What’s a nice girl like you doin’ in a place like this?”

“Missed my stop on the bus, ended up here.” Darcy glanced back at the enclosed ring – it was really that kick-ass woman, but she wasn’t going to admit it – in poorly disguised wonder, and the man’s lips curled up into an amused smile as he followed her gaze. “Who is that?”

“One of the Scandanavian crew.” Clint nodded towards behind her, and Darcy saw four men around the tall woman, the five of them towering over the rest of the crowd. “Nightmares to fight, ‘specially the big blonde one – hear he was the reigning champion of the CWFC before moving to the states.”

“CWFC?”

“Cage Warrior Fighting Championships.” He shook his head. “But that’s hardcore stuff, we just have local get togethers here.”

Darcy pursed her lips. “… isn’t MMA fighting illegal in New York?”

“ ‘S long as you don’t snitch to the cops we’re good.” He held out a hand. “Clint Barton.”

“Darcy Lewis.” She shook his hand firmly, and he nodded approvingly.

“Come on, Darcy Lewis, lemme show you around.” He did a quick and dirty breakdown of a typical match, pointing out some people she’d might like to watch in the future, and gave her a ride home in his beat up Toyota before promising to text her the time and address of his next fight the following week.

It was a week and a half later that she got the short message, and even when Clint lost to some scary dude called Crossbones, Darcy made sure to give Clint a congratulatory slap on the back and a tub of chocolate chip cookies she’d baked the day before – she’d had half-formed fantasies of seeing ‘the Goddess of War’ and giving her the cookies as a means of introducing herself, but quickly lost the nerve once she saw the size of the crowd she had to fight through.

The week after that, she brought a tub of snickerdoodles, only for a short man with a ridiculous goatee to ambush her at the door, pestering her about her cookies until a beautiful redheaded woman quickly dragged him off. Clint said she was called Natasha Romanoff, and that night Darcy watched in starry-eyed awe as the woman bulldozed her way through the sparring matches with the grace of a ballerina and the lethality of a snake – Darcy legit _mourned_ when she found out Natasha was straight and that she was sleeping with Clint.

Even then, she kept an eye out for the dark-haired woman she’d seen on her first night, whose fans – around 95% guys, some of them with weird fetishes like getting slapped or punched – were often warned off by the intimidating figures of the other four men she spent time with. It took her some asking around to get their names, but after only a few months of attending fights Darcy mustered up enough courage to introduce herself to Thor, the large Viking-esque CWFC champion Clint mentioned earlier. 

The man was surprisingly genial and docile out of the ring, especially after she discovered that he was a doctor in one of the city’s major hospitals, but even then, it didn’t take long for him to notice her infatuation.

“You hold a deep admiration for Sif, I see.” She had been staring wistfully, as said woman was making her way to the ring for her next match, but Darcy’s head snapped back quickly enough for her to hear a crack, and Thor chuckled at the wide-eyed expression on her face.

“What’s not to like?” Darcy flushed, fidgeting with the strap of her tote bag and feeling the weight of the tub of cookies sitting at the bottom. “She’s just pretty awesome, that’s all.”

Thor hummed. “You watch her the way I watch my lady love – with longing.”

She smiled, shrugging even when her cheeks felt hot. “She’s a gorgeous, kick-ass chick who can take care of herself – who wouldn’t want to be with her?”

Thor smiled as if she had passed some kind of test, and Darcy felt like she was imagining the proud look on his face until she heard a polite cough, and froze when she looked up to see deep brown eyes under fierce brows.

Sif smiled down at her kindly. “You are Darcy, yes?”

She let out a sound halfway between a squawk and a sound of affirmation, and even when Thor laughed Sif didn’t comment on the furious blush that was rising up her cheeks.

“May I ask for your favor?”

“My favor?” Darcy let herself breathe long enough to gasp out, “F-for what?”

“To bring me luck.” Sif’s eyes settled on the worn red ribbon wound around Darcy’s wrist, ratty and threadbare, and reached out to caress the fragile skin above her hammering pulse. “May I?”

“A-ah! No, let me – ” Darcy yanked her wrist back, fumbling with the knot as Sif waited with a patient, gentle smile, and when the woman held out her own hand in offering, Darcy sent Thor a silent “ _holy fuck_ ” as she gingerly wound the ribbon around Sif’s left hand.

“Good?” Darcy quickly withdrew her hands, biting her lip in an effort to not make an utter fool of herself, and sighed in relief as Sif nodded. “Good luck?” 

Sif laughed, and gave her a brilliant smile. “I will, as you say, ‘kick ass’ in your name tonight, Darcy – and I hope to finally get a taste of those delicious cookies I’ve been hearing so much about.” She leaned down and placed a swift kiss on Darcy’s cheek, the touch burning like a firebrand through skin and flesh, and winked before striding back to the ring, ponytail swinging in time with her hips.

“… What just happened?” Darcy just watched her walk away, gob-smacked, and Thor laughed heartily.

“Sif has had her eye on you for quite a time now,” he said, and Darcy’s jaw dropped further. “She has professed a keen desire to know what the skin of your neck tastes like.” 

She didn’t think it was possible, but according to Natasha, who was watching the proceedings from the sidelines with amusement, her entire face had turned bright red.

Apparently, though, Sif thought her blushing was adorable – and as Darcy later found out, took a great amount of pleasure in discovering just how far down it went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a tidbit that didn't make it into the final cut, but I had fun thinking up head canons for this verse. :)
> 
> \---
> 
> Natasha turned out to be a ballet teacher and a three-time Krav Maga world champion nicknamed Black Widow– just when Darcy didn’t think the woman could be any more badass – and Clint himself, alias Hawkeye, lost as many matches as he won but crushed everyone when it came to darts. 
> 
> Steve and Bucky, or Captain and Sergeant in the ring, were Afghanistan war veterans who had served in the same platoon, and where Bucky had all the finesse of a judo practitioner, Steve fought like a street kid brawling in the back alleys of Brooklyn. Sam, called Falcon, liked to joke that he was the Queens version of Steve, just slower, and could hustle at pool with the best of them. 
> 
> Yoga teacher Bruce, whose fighter name Hulk made no sense whatsoever until she saw him actually _body slam_ a guy into the mat, was one of those shy types Darcy wanted to just smother in hugs and cuddles, and Tony, who called himself Iron Man and day-lighted as a mechanical engineer, had a somewhat creepy yet flattering obsession with her baking – she didn’t realize he’d been secretly stealing the cookies she’d been bringing to matches until Natasha threatened to permanently incapacitate his ability to use his dick. 
> 
> After that, Tony always asked first, even when she began bringing a separate baggie of cookies just for him.


	3. in parchment (darcy x brock)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **anonymous love letter au** \+ harry potter au, darcy lewis x brock rumlow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While the letter could be read as uber creepy, I see it as something that's been a result of months of buildup, and that it's therefore not _as_ creepy? 
> 
> I blame e.e.cummings.

She’d been getting the letters since last year – at first, lovely little things that had made her giggle and smile, but over the course of the past few months, they had slowly shifted into sensual, romantic words that made her flush and dream of him in bed. And standing at the top of the Astronomy Tower, Darcy let out a breath she didn't know she was holding as the door swung open. 

**_I crave you, in the spaces between dreams and memories._ **

He was large and imposing, with dark hair that shone silver and obsidian in the moonlight, and when he turned his face towards the light she was stunned when she recognized him.

“… Rumlow?” _Oh please, not him_.

“Lewis.” He smiled, and she was dismayed to find that he had a really nice smile, one that lit up his dark features into something softer and more approachable. “… You came.”

“You’re the one who’s been writing those letters?” She couldn’t help it, but her voice was clearly lacking in enthusiasm.

He tensed at the tone of her voice, his smile falling into a defensive sneer. “What, disappointed it wasn’t Rogers?”

“No, since everyone knows he’s into Barnes, but…” She hesitated, and tried not to blush when she noticed he was in a tight-fitting shirt that did little to hide the impressive musculature of his torso. She crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly keenly aware that she was in little more than shorts and a tanktop – she felt more than a little vulnerable when she couldn’t hide behind chunky sweaters and knitted hats, especially in front of someone like Rumlow. “… You’re just the last person I’d expect here, that’s all.”

**_I want to bring you to the edge of oblivion and reality;_ **

“Yeah?” He cocked his head to the side, and then slowly moved forward in a way that felt more like a prowl than a walk. She couldn’t move, too mesmerized by the power in his steps, and instinctively backpedaled until her hips hit the edge of the tower. “Why’s that, sweetheart?”

She didn’t know how to reconcile the boy who wrote her love letters with the one who bullied younger Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs in the corridors – especially when she had been one of his victims, once upon a time. She was only a year below him, but she had somehow become his favorite victim – her first few years especially had been hell, thanks in large part to Rumlow’s incessant torment. And now that her brain had finally processed the fact that Rumlow was her secret admirer – the same Rumlow that had once called her an ugly cow – all she felt was disbelief, with a hefty undercurrent of anger.

“You mean besides the fact that you make my life a living hell, and that I make it my personal mission to avoid you at all costs?”

He blinked, stepping back at her belligerent tone. “What?”

**_To draw you in until you consume me within your arms –_ **

“Want me to make a list?” she retorted. “First year, you chased me into the labyrinths in the dungeons and left me there for hours, even when you knew I had no way of getting out. The year after that, you spent months casting tripping jinxes on my feet, and only stopped when I fell down the stairs and nearly broke my neck. In third year you told Johnny Storm I had _chlamydia_ , of _all_ the things in the world, and nobody would speak to me for months and treated me like I had dragonpox.”

“Fourth year, you transfigured my Yule Ball dress into a shower curtain, and I had to shave all my hair off because I couldn’t undo the permanent sticking charm you cast on my hairpins. For all of fifth year you intentionally distracted me during potions so I fucked up whatever we were brewing for the day, and even now you think it’s funny to steal my glasses and play keep away even though you _know_ I need them.” She swallowed, and when she looked up she didn’t know how to feel at his surprised expression.

“Frankly, you’re an arsehole who has made my life miserable for the past six years, so sorry if I’m not exactly jumping for joy. ” She didn’t know why she felt a twinge of guilt when something vaguely resembling hurt flickered across his features.

**_I want to sink between your pale thighs, and worship you._ **

“I never said I was a good guy.” His smile was gone, but his earlier surprise was replaced by growing frustration. “I did a lot of things to hurt you, I know that better than anyone. But nothing I wrote wasn’t true.”

Darcy scoffed. “Explain how that works to me, please? Because maybe I’m missing something, but how did you go from making my life miserable to deciding that you were halfway in love with me?”

“Because it’s been a long time coming.” He smiled grimly. “All these years, Lewis; ever stop to think why it was always only you?”

“Bullshit.” 

**_I am the sorry fool who has fallen for the moon;_**  

“I tried to talk to you in your first year, but you ran away when you saw my tie. When I tried to stop you from going into the labyrinth, you just kept running and tried hiding from me.” Rumlow rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, a far cry from his earlier sensuality. “The tripping jinxes were to get you to notice me, because you treated me like I didn’t exist, and I told Storm because I heard you said yes when he asked you to Hogsmeade, and I was jealous.”

“I ruined your dress and your hair so you couldn’t come to the ball, because I heard Ward say he was going to spike your drink so you’d sleep with him.” Darcy could only stand there and listen in stunned silence. “I steal your glasses because it’s the only way I can get you to touch me – but I was only trying to tease you, not hurt you.”

She tried to hold onto her anger, even as it seemed to drain out of her unconsciously. “And potions?”

“I saw you watching me, and I was trying to flirt with you.” Rumlow smiled half-heartedly, and Darcy flushed lightly when she remembered the lewd stretches and suggestive winks he’d sent her during class. “Obviously, didn’t work.”

**_I watch, and wish you could be mine._ **

“Obviously.” She was quiet for a moment. “What exactly did you think was going to happen here? Because there’s no way you couldn’t have seen this coming.”

“I graduate in three days, and then it’s off to the Auror Academy – I wasn’t expecting anything.” Darcy watched him as he looked away, scrubbing his face with his hand and then running his fingers through his hair. “I just wanted you to know it was me.”

“… I’m working at Flourish and Blotts in Diagon this summer.” She didn’t know what she was thinking when she stepped forward to hold his hand, and even when he flinched at her touch she held on. “If you wanted to come by… I’m not promising anything, I just need some time to think things over – ”

He turned his hand so her hand was palm to palm with his, folding it around hers. It was a nice hand, she decided, warm and dry and strong –

She twitched, willing her cheeks to fight the blush that was no doubt climbing the pale column of her neck, but when Rumlow’s eyes crinkled up in amusement she knew her efforts had been futile.

He nodded, a hopeful smile creeping up the edges of his lips. “I can wait.”

**_Midnight, Astronomy Tower. I’ll wait for you._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The letter in its entirety: 
> 
> _I crave you, in the spaces between dreams and memories._   
> _I want to bring you to the edge of oblivion and reality,_   
> _To draw you in until you consume me within your arms –_   
> _I want to sink between your pale thighs, and worship you._   
> _I watch, and wish you could be mine._
> 
> _Midnight, Astronomy Tower. I’ll wait for you._


	4. snapdragon succubus (darcy x warren)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **angel/demon au** \+ x-men crossover, darcy lewis x warren worthington iii

When Darcy stepped out of the elevator into the common room, she wasn't expecting to walk into a standoff between the Avengers and the X-men.

Charles Xavier had a pleasant smile on his face, the expression unwavering even as Steve’s eye twitched; no doubt Xavier was speaking to the Captain telepathically, if the uncomfortable look on Steve’s face was any indication. Behind Xavier, there was a white-haired woman – and here Darcy thought weather witches had died out centuries ago – who kept staring at Thor with an irritated scowl; on his end, the Asgardian looked genuinely confused to be the target of her ire.

The one she recognized as Wolverine kept stealing interested glances in Pepper’s direction, despite her frosty glare in response, and Tony alternated between trading barbs with a man wearing a red-tinted shield across his eyes and staring down Wolverine as best as he could. A little ways away, a normal-looking man was looking on upon the entire situation in amusement, while Bruce and the furry blue mutant muttered between themselves, no doubt about something related to science. They were the only ones who didn't even seem to notice the tension that settled over both groups like a low morning fog – even Pepper was twitchy, the dull glow of Extremis flashing under her skin in a slow simmer.

Darcy leaned up against the wall, watching the tense scene unfold with raised eyebrows, but it didn’t take long for Thor to perk up at the sight of her.

“Shield-sister!” She smiled back, uncaring when everyone’s attention swiveled to focus on her, and moseyed over to get her customary bear hug before wandering over to the kitchen.

“Hey, big guy. What are the X-men doing here?” She pulled out the ingredients for sandwiches, deftly chopping tomatoes and onions and lettuce as she looked over to the nearest stranger. “You want a sandwich, dude?”

“What?” Normal Guy looked flustered for a moment, and then shook his head, even as he seemed to stare at her with a baffled expression. “Um, no thanks.”

She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

“They seek to create an alliance between their  _maettr_  warriors and ours.” He smiled in thanks as he saw her lay out two loaves worth of bread; she knew him too well to not realize when he was hungry. “Although their  _seidhr_  is far weaker than yours, Lady Darcy – perhaps you could shed light upon their ways and forge a bridge of understanding between us?”

“You’re a mutant?” Eye-shield Dude looked as surprised as he could be without showing his eyes, even if he was being considerably rude. “What’s your power, then?"

Steve made a noise of disapproval, and the guy shrunk back a little at his glare.

“Uh, not a mutant, actually.” She began doling out vegetables and cold cuts onto the bread, working quickly – she didn't like the contemplative look on Xavier’s face. “Just a civvie intern for an astrophysicist, nothing special.”

Normal Guy blurted out the last thing she thought he’d ever say. “Then how do you have wings too?”

Of all she had met in her long life, Thor, who as an Asgardian was far more attuned to magic than any Earth-born being, was the only one who knew she was more than what she seemed. He took an inordinate amount of pleasure in attempting to deduce exactly  _what_  she was – when not out fighting the villain of the hour or wooing Jane away from the labs, he spent his days on Earth reading through myths and folktales, both modern and ancient alike.

Thor often guessed creatures along the lines of wood nymphs, or faeries, or pixies. Darcy didn't have the heart to tell him that the secret to her longevity was having lots and lots of sex, but that wasn't something she disclosed amongst polite company. The fact that she had bat wings and horns were also, obviously, left unmentioned.

Until now, apparently.

Her first instinct was to play dumb. “Sorry, what?”

“You have wings too.” He stepped forward, looking awestruck, before a look of shock crossed his face. “And… horns?”

Wolverine snorted. “What the fuck are you talkin’ 'bout, Worthington?”

“You don’t see it?” The man looked around incredulously. “They’re right there!”

"Uh, okay, man." Darcy clenched her hand around the knife she was holding, her stance widening instinctively as she tried to laugh off her growing anxiety, “You sure you're not smoking something in your spare time?”

The white-haired woman stared at her, and in the span of a heartbeat threw a gale of wind at her that nearly blew everyone off their feet – and Darcy instinctively stretched her wings over the countertop, letting the air blow over her.

Flying sandwiches was something she already had the misfortune of experiencing, and Darcy had no desire to dig mustard out from the joints of her wings again.

"Oi!" Darcy scowled at the weather witch. "You know how hard it is to get mayonnaise out of cashmere? It's hell!"

The woman didn't pay her any mind. "You were right, Angel – leathery, by the feel of it."

Thor looked wounded. “You hide your true form from us, Lady Darcy?” She refused to feel guilty, even when Thor looked at her with those sad, sad eyes, but Xavier’s voice broke her defiant silence.

“How extraordinary.” He looked surprised, but also delighted. “I have not had the pleasure of meeting a true  _qarinah_  before.” Thor’s mouth dropped open in a silent ‘ _oh_ ,’ then snapped shut just as quickly to settle into something more contemplative.

She started. “How do you – ”

“Journals, from others before me.” He smiled lightly, and she tensed. “You wear your glamour all the time then?”

Tony interrupted, looking entirely confused. “What the hell is he talking about, Lewis?”

“Nobody is supposed to be able to see through it.” She knew first hand what happened when she was careless, when she let others figure out her secret. Humans were just beginning to rediscover that magic was real – they didn't need to know about the creatures that lurked among them and the half-bloods that thought their powers were mutations rather than their heritage.

“Warren is an  _avesto aggelo_.” Although he looked like he’d rather do anything else, Normal Guy slid off his coat, revealing tightly coiled white wings that unfurled to hang loosely behind his back.

“Huh.” She blinked. “I guess that explains it.”

“Can someone here explain to me what’s going on?” Tony stomped his foot like a petulant child, his frown turning into a wince as Pepper pinched his ear.

“Ms. Lewis is what is more commonly known as a succubus, Mr. Stark,” Xavier explained calmly. “A female demon spirit that lives on the life-energy of the people she engages with sexually. The only being known to fully sate the spirit's... appetite, for lack of a better word, is an  _avesto aggelo –_ an archangel with a naturally strong life-force – like Warren here.”

Tony looked at her like she had betrayed him personally. “You're a sex demon and you  _never_ told me?!”

“Not like I would've slept with you anyways,” Darcy said archly, rolling her eyes. "You couldn't handle me." Tony smirked dirtily, only for Pepper to jab a warning finger into his side. Darcy smiled at her in thanks, relaxing a little when the woman smiled back in return, albeit cautiously. She released her grip on the knife, and blinked when she noticed everyone breathe a sigh of relief. 

Right, she could've compelled everyone to kill each other as she bathed in their blood. There was a reason succubi had such bad reps. 

The  _avesto aggelo_ , Warren as he was called, stepped closer, stretching his wings far enough to reach forward towards her.

“Can I…?”

Darcy sighed, giving Xavier a halfhearted glare before dropping the illusion, and while there were more than a few sharp inhales Warren didn’t even flinch. He reached out, brushing the webbing between the ligaments and bones, and she jumped a little.

“They're sensitive, right?” He gave her a shy smile. “Mine too.” She took the moment to appreciate the sheer beauty of the wings that fanned out from his back – soft and white-feathered like the wings of a snowy owl, and when she reached out to stroke down the ridge of one he groaned lowly, in a way that made the sound shoot straight down into her abdomen.

"Ooh..." Darcy smiled wickedly, repeating the action but using her nails this time, and he jerked, his breathing heavy as he stared down at her with rapidly darkening eyes. She licked her lips, and his expression shifted into something heavy and sly as he used his wings to wrap around her, pulling her closer until he could wrap his arms around her to rub slow circles at the point just under where her wings fused with the skin of her back.

Her back arched as she gasped, and her high-pitched whine gave way to laughter as she heard Stark shouting indignantly from behind the shield of Warren's wings.

"Crazy demon sex is not allowed in my tower, Lewis!" Warren chuckled, brushing his lips across her cheek. "Get a room!"

* * *

_In the language of flowers, snapdragons are said to represent graciousness, mystery, and deception tied to the notion of concealment._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Personal head canon for this au:  
> Mutants are actually humans with creature and magic inheritances, where somewhere in their ancestry a magical creature was introduced to a human line. The dilution of creature blood in certain bloodlines result in the emergence of magical abilities along varying scales: some have only one or two of the abilities of their magical ancestors (Cyclops and Wolverine, prior to his experimentation), where others have the full spectrum (Angel, Storm, Xavier). There are a few who are true and full-blooded, lucky enough to survive into the modern age, and Darcy is one of those few.


	5. shaken, not stirred (darcy x phil)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **bartender au** \+ shield recruitment au, darcy lewis x phil coulson

She laughed, feeling the adrenaline rush through her body as she tossed liquor bottles into the air, spinning and whirling in time to the heavy bass pounding through the walls.

The crowd was hollering, chanting her name, and she finished her routine with an overhead back bend pour that gave the audience a gratuitous look of her cleavage, ending with a snap-back hair flick and a last little flip flourish. The bachelorette party she’d been entertaining cheered, thrusting tips into the empty cup she kept on the bar for just that very purpose, and she leaned forward to give the bride-to-be a smack on the lips that made the men in the crowd whoop as the women left for the dance floor, freshly mixed margaritas in hand.

The men followed after, and soon there were just a few stragglers, mostly leering creeps who tried making conversation with her tits, but eventually her section cleared out, leaving just one man sitting on a barstool.

“Need a refill?” She palmed the empty beer can, and grimaced at the label. “PBR? Seriously, dude?”

“I picked a number between one and ten; I don’t really drink beer.” He smiled sheepishly – he had one of those friendly faces, and a kind smile that made Darcy open up a little. “Maybe I should’ve gone with Sierra Nevada.”

“When in doubt, go for Sierra, Heineken, or Guinness.” Darcy held up the three beers, and when the man chose the second one she nodded in approval. “Rules to live by, my friend.”

She pulled a flat iron opening from her back pocket, spinning it around a finger and popping the cap in a reverse grip before sliding it over. Nabbing the Sierra, she did the same trick tapping bottles with the man’s Heineken. “Cheers, man.” 

“Cheers.” He took a tentative sip, and Darcy rolled her eyes before throwing her head back and taking a long swig, savoring the bitter taste as it went down her throat.

She leaned back against the counter, tapping the mouth of the bottle against her lips as she stared at the man contemplatively. “So what’s a guy like you doing here on a Wednesday night?”

He shrugged. “Can’t a man enjoy a drink once in a while?”

“Expensive suit, probably Gucci by the pinstripes. Patek Philippe watch, genuine article. No ring, no tan line – unmarried, and by that look on your face you’re either a whiskey or a cognac drinker, maybe the occasional glass of wine at dinner. Red.” She scanned him, and raised an eyebrow. “Men like you don’t come to places like this, not even on a Wednesday night.”

He looked mildly stunned, but impressed. “Scotch actually, but the rest was surprisingly correct.”

“I’m good at reading people.” She grinned, tossing her bottle up and catching it on the backs of her hands, then different parts of her arm. “Makes life a lot more interesting.”

“I’ll say.” He made a last attempt to drink his beer, but pushed it away with a shake of the head.

Darcy nabbed it, chugging the last of the Sierra and then taking a mouthful of the Heineken. He blinked, and she quirked her lips into a grin.

“  _‘Waste not, want not,’_  or whatever it is you old folks say, yeah?” He sputtered adorably as she winked – was that a blush? “Just teasin’ you, dude.”

“Indeed.” He didn’t move as the flush faced from his cheeks, just sort of  _looked_  at her, and Darcy let him look his fill as she cleaned up a bit. She was used to men watching her, especially when she was bartending, but somehow this felt different – it was more admiring, rather than just plain ogling. “I heard them call you Dee…?”

“Yeah, short for Darcy Lewis.” She waited a beat. “This is sort of where you introduce yourself too, y’know.”

“Coulson.” He pulled a business card out of his suit pocket, sliding it over the counter. “Philip Coulson, but just call me Phil.”

She held up the card, squinting a little at the embossed logo behind the typeface on the card. “Is that an eagle?”

“Of sorts.” He folded his hands on the counter. “I’m here to talk to you about a job offer, actually.”

“With who?” Darcy looked back to the card, squinting to read the tiny letters in the dim light. “SHIELD? What’s SHIELD?”

“Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division – we’re an independent covert agency that seeks to protect the world from threats.”

“Like the CIA?” She looked at him suspiciously, taking a careful step back. “Not, you know, that I have anything worth running for, but why exactly would a spy organization be looking to recruit a college drop-out bartender from in the backwaters of Maine?”

“Please don’t say we’re like the CIA.” Phil looked pained at the comparison. “They really don’t like us.”

“Okay fine, NSA – ” he winced again, “ – or whatever, but what exactly am I being recruited for? Because while being headhunted to bartend for SHIELD’s super secret spy bar would be fucking cool, that’s obviously not why you’re here.”

Phil pulled a manila folder from his jacket, flipping open the cover to reveal a full-fledged dossier and background check with her face and name on it. She winced a little when she saw the list of cybercrimes under her name.

“Those records were sealed, Mr. Super Spy.”

“SHIELD is the one that seals the records, Ms. Lewis, we can unseal them just as easily.” He flipped forward a few pages. “Recognize this?”

She glanced at the screenshot, recognizing the contents immediately, and growled. “How the hell did you get into my hard drive?”

“We have Tony Stark, but even he couldn’t write something like this.” He tapped the paper. “It took him eight days to crack your firewalls and trapdoor viruses. The longest anyone’s kept him out before that was two and a half days." 

“Really?” She tried not to preen, but at his deadpan stare she clearly failed. “… What’s your point?" 

“We’d like to hire you for your services.” Phil sat back, watching her carefully. “A consultant position, not an employee but a separate branch – open to contract negotiation for promotions and raises assuming you agree to the NDA we provide.”

“NDAs? … Right, super secret spies, forgot.” Darcy folded her arms. “What’s in it for me?” 

He raised an eyebrow. “What do you want?”

She didn’t even have to think. “Pay off my student loans, pay for me to go back to college and get a bachelor  _and_  masters degree, stipend for living expenses, and for you to go on a date with me.”

He choked, coughing as he processed her words. “ _Excuse me_?”

“I said pay off – ”

“You want me to take you out on a date?” He looked bewildered, and she had to be honest, the slightly confused look was cute on him.

“I always wanted to date a spy.” She began making a drink behind the bar, out of Phil’s line of sight, and capped the cocktail shaker to mix the liquor with the ice. He frowned a little, trying to figure out what she was making. “I figure I could be a badass Bond girl – I’d rock the bikini and hunting knife look.”

“In-house dating is against the SHIELD protocol.” His blush came back, and he cleared his throat a little as his eyes refocused from their split-second daydream. “Could create conflict of interest.”

“I’m gonna be a consultant, not an employee – isn’t that what you said?”

Cracking open the lid, she poured the contents into a glass, topping it off with the garnish and settling it in front of him. “So whaddya say, 007? Or are you afraid you can’t keep up?”

 “Oh, Barton is going to hate me.” Phil took a sip of the martini, and slowly smiled as he slid an olive off the toothpick with his teeth. “You got a deal, Ms. Lewis.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My go-to beer is Chimay, but when I'm out at bars I tend to go with those three as safe options. I am not a beer connoisseur by any means, but I do believe that PBR tastes like crap and is only good for beer pong or flip cup. Sometimes not even that.
> 
> Any preferences you guys have in particular?


	6. kiss or drink (darcy x sam)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **spin the bottle au** \+ summer camp au, darcy lewis x sam wilson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this AU, the Avengers are college kids/camp counselors at a summer camp.

Maria’s eye twitched, fiddling with the pocketknife in her hand. “Why are we doing this again?”

“What better way to bond, than through a good, old-fashioned sleepover?” Tony dumped the contents of his arms down onto the floor of the wood cabin. “Junk food, action movies, games... extra fluffy goose down pillows in case you ladies want to get in on some underwear fight action – ”

Natasha just stared at him, and Tony wilted a little. “… So no underwear fight action?”

“Pillow fights are the creation of perverted old men projecting their fantasies onto the young female populace by means of stereotypical school drama movies,” Darcy drawled, and snatched a pillow to lay on. Both Maria and Natasha offered her high fives that she happily accepted. 

“We're having a sleepover when Bucky's somewhere out there,” Steve muttered, and Sam, new to the circle of crazy that was Camp SHIELD, slapped him on the back good-naturedly.

“C’mon man, you've been calling him nonstop.” Sam sat down across from Darcy, and she let her eyes linger on the shifting muscles of his biceps before averting her eyes. “Give Bucky some time to think; he knows the woods better than anyone else, he'll be fine.”

Steve looked uncomfortable as he settled next to Sam, his too-long legs crossed awkwardly in front of him as he looked around . “Is anyone else coming?”

“Clint and Bruce are off on that night hike with the kiddies,” Darcy said, “and Jane’s doing the overnight stargazing class with Thor.”

“And Pepper’s on a supply run, so we’re down to the muscle crew, Lewis, and myself.” Tony yanked up his shirt, pulling beer bottles from the waistband of his pants.

"Ew." Darcy shied away, dodging the bottle Tony waved in her direction. "I want no part in anything that's been near your dick." 

Tony grinned, promptly putting the beer against Steve's face. 

“Really, Stark?” Tony didn't even react to Steve’s unimpressed glare, letting go only when Steve took a swat at his hand. The blonde scrubbed at his cheek with a sleeve. 

“No time like the present, Rogers.” He cracked open a beer on the edge of a wood table, taking a swig. “Seeing as you're all here thanks to my magnanimous generosity -- "

"Your dad was the camp founder, Tony, not you." 

" -- I get to pick the game: spin the bottle!” He pulled out a tall bottle of what Darcy recognized as Grey Goose vodka, undoubtedly smuggled in .

"French?" Natasha wrinkled her nose, grimacing. "You couldn't even get Stolichnaya?"

Steve's expression, if possible, got even dourer. "I can't get drunk."

"Eh." Tony waved his hand flippantly, conjuring shot glasses out of nowhere and pouring a round for everyone. Setting the bottle in the center of their lopsided circle, Tony grinned. "So rules: you kiss the person you land on; if both of you of don't want to kiss you drink, and if only one of you passes you drink both shots. _Capiche_?" 

Darcy laughed. "Giving people a way out? How nice of you, Tony." She didn't see his answering grin turn a little wicked, nor the smirk he exchanged with Natasha. 

"Ladies first." Steve rolled his eyes when Tony looked at him expectantly, and spun it. 

"Go, go, go, get -- ooh, fuck no." Tony paled as it landed on him. "Nope, nope, not happening – " He didn't even bother waiting for Steve to decide as he grabbed both his and Steve's shots, downing them one after another. 

Maria snorted "Don't you want a kiss from a _'prime piece of American manmeat,'_ Stark?" Everyone but Tony burst out into snickers, and even Steve cracked a smile.

Tony twitched, opting to ignore Steve's growing grin and spun after he refilled the empty glasses. It landed on Natasha, and the woman didn't even blink before downing her own shot and taking another straight from the bottle.

"… That hurts, Natasha. That hurts right here." Tony grimaced, clutching his arc reactor in faux pain, but she paid no mind to Tony's pout, topping off her glass before spinning to land on Darcy. 

She looked at Darcy, and Darcy shrugged, leaning in to give Natasha a chaste peck on the lips. 

"Ten second rule, Lewis!" Tony tried arguing, but Darcy sat back with a smug smile. 

"You never specified." 

Tony bristled. “Fine, new rules: French kissing, or double shots!”

Darcy rolled her eyes and spun, watching the bottle track itself end over end until it came to a slow stop on Sam. She felt the bottom of her stomach drop out from under her.

“Kiss?” Tony looked like he had won the fucking lottery, and Darcy wanted to smack the gleeful smile off his face – there was no way he didn’t know about her stupid crush on Sam. “Or drink?”

On his part, Sam looked a little embarrassed, even as Maria ribbed at him, but caught her eye and gave her a sheepish smile. “Whatever you’re comfortable with, Darcy.”

Darcy cast a look at the shot glass, regretting the wine coolers she had snuck with Jane earlier in the night. She was a lightweight, and two shots of vodka would fuck her up quickly, but her brain was busy deciding which would be the lesser of two evils: kissing Sam, which could lead to possibly getting rejected if he started suspecting something, or downing the shots and blacking out and making a fool of herself.

She cast another look at Sam, whose smile had slowly stared to fade as the seconds ticked past, and Natasha poked her hard in the arm.

“Don’t be an idiot, _sestrenka_ ,” she murmured, jerking her head over in Sam’s direction, and Darcy swallowed thickly as she faced him.

“Hey, it’s cool.” He smiled, but she could tell it was forced – his eyes betrayed his disappointment. Sam picked up his shot glass, holding it up to her in a toast. “No hard feelings, Darcy.”

“I never said…” She caught his hand just as the glass touched his lips, pulling it away before leaning in to press her mouth to his. She didn’t hear the sound of the shot glass hitting the wood floor, or Tony’s annoyed complaint at the waste of alcohol – there was just the thundering of her pulse, an overwhelming drumbeat in her ears

_One, two, three._

She panicked for a moment when he didn’t respond, but before she could pull back Sam surged forward, tangling his hand in her hair and wrapping his other arm around her waist to tug her closer. He opened up under her, tracing the seam of mouth and he bit her lower lip between his teeth, and Darcy inhaled sharply, kissing back just as enthusiastically.

She paid no mind to the quiet laughter and whispers – even Tony’s exasperated sigh of “fucking _finally_ ” went ignored – and just _savored_ the experience: the taste of spearmint, the smell of freshly washed linen and soap, and the rasp of stubble scratching her cheeks raw.

When he finally pulled back, Darcy let out a whine as she followed his lips, and Sam grinned brightly as Darcy opened her eyes. “It’s about damn time, girl.”

“What?” Darcy cleared her throat, stepping back a little to gather herself, but Sam didn’t let her move away, instead following her as he settled his arms around her waist.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the first day of camp.”

Darcy snorted, looking away from Sam’s smile in embarrassment as a flush colored her cheeks. “That line work on all the girls, Wilson?”

“Not the smart ones. Thor warned me off the first day – said that if I liked you I had to wait until _you_ pursued _me_.” Darcy’s jaw dropped at the revelation. “So when Tasha told me you were too shy to make a move, I asked for some help.”

Darcy pulled back enough to look around the room incredulously. Steve offered a quiet, “Congratulations,” as Maria gave her a wink. Tony held up the vodka bottle.

“I’m never telling you anything again.” She glared at Natasha, who just looked amused.

“You’re welcome, _sestrenka_.”

 She laughed a little in disbelief, and looked up at Sam shyly. “So…”

“So…” He mimicked her, and reached down to interlace his fingers with hers. “I’d like to see how things pan out, if you’re interested?”

“Is this enough of an answer?” Darcy reached up to loop her arms around his neck, and leaned in to kiss him.

She didn’t even notice when Natasha and Maria dragged Stark out by the ears as he pulled condoms from his back pockets, and Steve shut the cabin door with a quiet click.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of you seemed to dislike beer, so what about vodka? Or other hard liquors?


	7. just for comfort (darcy x logan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **stuck someplace together in winter au** \+ x-men crossover, darcy lewis x logan howlett

When Darcy pushed open the door to the little cabin, it was only reflex that saved her face from being skewered, the taser prongs latching onto her attacker just as the blades were inches away from her nose. 

The man, dark and stocky with _knives_ coming out of his fucking hands – _holyfuckingshit_ – roared in pain as he dropped to his knees. Darcy pulled the Glock she stole from her neighbor-turned-HYDRA-henchman, holding it with shaking hands. To her horror, the man reached up slashed at the lines of her taser, yanking out the detached ends from his chest and staggering up to his feet with a nasty grimace.

“That hurt,” he growled, the claws on his hands swaying dangerously at his sides. He looked up, and the rage seemed to clear a little from his face as he took in the sight of her: arms shaking and shoulders hunched, and dark circles under fear-filled eyes in an exhausted, blue-lipped face. His eyes dropped to the dark bloodstain blooming from a jagged knife slash in her right shoulder, then down to the snow-crusted Converse that were tinted dark with water, and took a step back cautiously.

“You’re a mutant.” Darcy tightened her grip, swallowing to steady herself as she aimed the gun at his forehead. “W-who are you?”

“Depends on who’s askin.’ ”

Dark spots swam in her vision, but she gritted her teeth against the exhaustion. “Are you with Xavier or Magneto?”

“… Xavier.” He tugged the plaid shirt he was wearing open with a slow, steady hand, and something in her deflated when she saw the black uniform stretched tight against his chest, the straps crossing his torso in an X. “Wolverine.”

“Thank Thor.” She let the gun fall from her ice-cold hands, staggering as relief flooded her body. “… Phoenix.”

His eyes widened at the code word Jean Grey had given her before her apartment had exploded, and he darted forward just in time to catch her from face planting on the floor. “Easy there, girlie.”

Darcy was too tired to respond, and succumbed to the call of sleep.

* * *

When she woke, it was to the flickering shadows of a crackling fire, the soothing sound of a heartbeat under her ear, and a hand brushing the outer curve of a breast. She lay still, cataloguing what she could see, and only realized after a few seconds that she was in her underwear, and nothing else.

Despite the deep-set ache that spread from head to toe, she tried scrambling away from whoever was beside her, but the arm draped around her waist caught her and reeled her back in until she was slotted against a warm, thickly muscled body.

“Stop wriggling, woman.” The gruff words puffed against the shell of her ear, and the man spooned against her a little tighter. “Unless you wanna die of hypothermia.”

Her voice was hoarse, but no less snappy as she said, “Isn’t that what fire is for?”

He grunted. “Body heat works best.”

She pursed her lips, and pointedly lifted his arm with her left hand to give her some space to twist free, pulling on the thick quilt covering her until it draped over her like a hood and cape.

“Suit yourself.” He sighed, sitting up and rolling out of the tiny bed, and Darcy took the chance to observe him as he leaned down to add wood to the fire. A small, dirty part of her fist pumped when she saw the guy’s ridiculous abs and pecs, dark hairs tapering to a happy trail that disappeared down the low-riding waistband of his jeans. She wanted to _lick_ those hipbones, and that neck too.

She blushed when she noticed him looking at her with a quirked smirk, arms – holy _biceps_ , Batman – folded over his bare chest, and stuttered a little as she said, “Y-you said you’re Wolverine?”

“Call me Logan.” His gaze fell to the pale, exposed skin of her shoulders, and darkened a little until he focused on the blood-stained bandage. “You ripped the stitches.”

“Sorry.” She was quiet as he peeled the gauze back to clean the wound with an alcohol wipe, and flinched at the burn. “I’m Darcy Lewis– Jean Grey told me to come here for help when HYDRA bombed my apartment.”

Logan’s eyebrows rose. “Jean told you?" 

Darcy shrugged her uninjured shoulder, and he affixed another bandage on the wound after tossing the used one into the fireplace. “Telepathically, yeah. Said she had a friend that could keep me safe for a while until things calmed down and one of the Avengers could come get me.”

“The Avengers?” He scrubbed at his face with a hand. “What, you one of their girlfriends or something?”

Her mouth tightened at the assumption, the one that everyone seemed to make. “Thor’s shield-sister actually – but more like I’m being hunted because I helped recreate a Bifrost bridge.”

“You’re _that_ Darcy.” Logan looked at her a little more closely, with something akin to respect. “Well, sorry to break out the bad news, but we’re gonna be stuck here for a while – blizzard’s rolling in soon, ten or twenty minutes tops.”

“Fuck.” She huddled into the quilt more, as the latent heat Logan gave off earlier started fading from the thick material. “Do you have any signal up here? Cell, radio…  or a landline, anything?”

“Powerlines went down a few hours before you showed up, and the storm’s fucking with the radio waves.” He shook his head. “We’re lookin’ at a good week at least, maybe more.”

“Great.” She frowned, picking at a loose thread, and sighed. “S-sorry for putting you out like this.” 

“It’s fine.” He narrowed his eyes, watching her carefully. “Your teeth are chattering.”

“O-oh.” She closed her eyes, willing away the cold, but it didn’t work. “Maybe you were right about the body heat thing.”

He rolled his eyes, striding across the width of the cabin in less than three strides before dropping next to her on the bed, pulling her to sit across his lap and wrapping himself around her.

Darcy sighed in content, burrowing a little into the warmth of Logan’s torso, but she froze at the low, tense groan he emitted. “Didn’t I say stop wiggling?”  

She turned to look at him incredulously. “I look like a walking zombie in a blanket burrito, are you serious?” 

His gaze burned into hers as he said, “That’s ‘cause I know what you’re wearing underneath that blanket.” She remembered that she was wearing a satin and lace confection, less about support and more to look pretty, and her cheeks pinked as an impression of two tangled bodies flashed across her vision. 

Darcy was quietly lost in her thoughts, even though Logan said nothing else, and suddenly felt the reality of the past day crash down on her shoulders. She was on the run, holed up in a cabin in the woods with an attractive man who thought she was pretty attractive too – and while in normal circumstances Darcy wouldn’t even think about it, today’s events were decidedly abnormal circumstances that warranted something equally outrageous. She wanted to let go, feel protected and cared for, and she _wanted_ him – she wanted a distraction, one that could take her mind off things until reality caught up to her. 

“What are you – ” His voice caught in his throat as she stood up and let the blanket drape open, shivering at the cold air that rushed in, but it was worth it for the stricken look on his face. “… _fuck,_ Lewis.” 

She smiled shakily. “That’s kinda the idea, hotshot.” 

“… You sure you want to do this, sweetheart?” He looked up at her, hungry eyes drinking in the field of pale skin. “ ‘Cause I’m not the kind of guy stops when you say yes.”

“My apartment just got bombed, and HYDRA is trying to capture and/or kill me. I got knifed, almost drove off a cliff on my way up the mountain, nearly froze to death hiking over here, then almost got my nose chopped off.” Darcy settled more snugly into his lap, and Logan’s calloused hands slipped between the edges of the quilt to stroke up and down her sides. “I think I deserve _something_ for surviving the last 24 hours – I just want to _forget_ … just for a little while.” 

He studied her for a few seconds, then reached around her and snapped open the clasp of her bra, pulling away the lace and satin before cupping her breasts. She moaned at the warmth emanating through the skin of his hands, arching forward for more contact. 

Logan groaned and withdrew his hands, pulling her head down into a heady, dirty kiss as he rolled his hips up into hers. He kissed like he was going to devour her, biting and nipping and licking at her mouth, and she melted into it as he just _took_ from her. She heard a faint mewl, before realizing that it came from her.

He drew back, panting into her neck as he mouthed the skin there, and his fingers stuttered on the edge of her panties as he said, “Last chance to say no.” 

Darcy wrapped her legs around his waist, hooking her ankles at the small of his back, and used her new position to grind down on the hard ridge of his cock through his jeans. 

“ _Yes_.”

He carried her to the bed, and she let herself fall apart and forget.


	8. tongues and teeth (darcy x peggy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **sex pollen au** \+ time travel au, darcy lewis x peggy carter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _What is this I don’t even_  
>  I don’t know how this happened, but yeah. Here you go!   
> *throws badly written smut at you*
> 
> ** Takes place sometime during the events of the TV miniseries, Agent Carter.

Darcy didn’t think things could get much worse than getting sucked into an alien portal and ending up in 1945 America – era of fedoras, anti-communist sentiment, and blatant sexism – but maybe she had spoken too soon. 

“Seriously?” She ducked behind a row of crates, wincing when she could feel the force of the bullets hit the wood. “When you said you wanted to go watch a movie, I thought you meant we were actually _going_ to a movie theater!”

“You said something with action and guns and drama,” Peggy panted from her side, occasionally popping up to fire at the goons tailing them over the edge of the crates. “I think this fulfills those requirements sufficiently.”

“I was talking about _The Maltese Falcon_!” Darcy held her breath as she yanked a smoke grenade from her pants pocket, fumbling with the pin before lobbing it in the direction of the gunshots. “Not getting pulled into whatever crazy things you’re doing with the J-man on your nights out!”

"He hates it when you call him that."

She heard the hiss of the canister releasing and hacking coughs, and tugged on Peggy’s jacket as she covered her nose and mouth with her sleeve. The two of them crawled across the sewer’s mechanical room, and Peggy used the distraction to knock two men out with well-aimed cracks to the head. Darcy, on her part, grabbed the suitcase and whirled around just in time to whip it up into the last goon’s chin, knocking him out cold.

“Whew.” Darcy panted, pulling the shotgun out from under the guy’s arm and taking the pistol in his belt for good measure. Peggy cleared her throat, raising a perfectly sculpted eyebrow in disapproval. “What? You wouldn’t give me a gun.”

“And where do you think you’re going to put that, under your bed? Ms. Fry would have you packing your bags the moment you walked through the front door.” Darcy pouted, and Peggy rolled her eyes, giving one of the men on the floor a kick in the stomach when he started to moan. “Leave the shotgun; you can keep the pistol.”

“Yes!” Darcy fumbled with the larger gun until six magazines fell out, and she dumped those into the sewer drain before leaving the shotgun next to a body. She cast a look at the suitcase lying on the ground, shabby and stained with gutter water. “So all this, for whatever crazy weapon is in that gross thing?”

“Howard said this one was different than the others.” Peggy knelt down, running her fingers along the edges and corners as if looking for something. “Said it wasn’t a physical weapon, but more of a psychoactive one.”

“Like what?” Darcy looked down at the suitcase dubiously. “Is it filled with molly?”

“With what?” Peggy stared at her blankly. 

“You know, MDMA, ecstasy?” Darcy tried, but Peggy stared at her blankly. "I think it’s called mandy in the UK."

“I have no earthly idea what you’re talking about.”

“LSD?” Darcy sighed. “Psychedelics? Drugs that make you see things?”

“If you mean hallucinogens, then yes, only of the gaseous variety.” Peggy examined the lock, and pulled a bobby pin from her hair to fiddle with the mechanism. “Howard was never very interested in chemical warfare, but he looked into it all the same.” There was a quiet click of the lock unlatching, and when Peggy lifted the lid Darcy sighed in relief when nothing blew up.

“What is it?” Darcy leaned over Peggy’s shoulder to get a better look, and saw a slim canister of metal no bigger than her now useless iPod.

“No idea, but I don’t want to wait around to find out.” Peggy made to use a handkerchief to pull the slim device out of the suitcase, but didn’t even manage to pull it out of the case before vapor started billowing out of the canister in giant rolling clouds.

Peggy dropped the little gadget in surprise and Darcy slammed the lid of the suitcase shut, but not before the room was filled with white smoke. The fog smelled sickly sweet and stung her eyes, before she felt Peggy grab her wrist and run out of there with the suitcase in hand, running away from it through the sewer systems until they emerged from a manhole in a back alley a few blocks away from the Griffith.

“Are you alright, Darcy?” Peggy looked on in concern, as Darcy rubbed at her eyes, red with tears.

“Yeah, yeah… holy shit that burns.” She dabbed at her eyes with her sleeve, blinking as she unzipped the upper half of jumpsuit she was wearing to reveal a long white blouse and a swingy navy skirt, shimmying the rest of the heavy fabric over her hips as she pulled her skirt back down until it brushed her knees. Peggy had already stripped and put herself together, the only giveaway being the wrinkles in the skirt of her dress, and held Darcy’s low-heeled pumps out to her with an odd look in her eyes.

“Thanks.” She did a half-hop, switching her boots with the kitten heels, and stuffed the jumpsuit and boots in the little hidey-hole Peggy had made. “Ready?”

“Yes.” The woman looked stiff, striding off so quickly that Darcy had to jog a little to catch up to her, and she frowned when she felt a prickling sensation crawling down her spine, starting from the base of her neck and then spreading down until it settled low in her belly.

“That’s… not good.” Darcy knew herself well enough to recognize the signs, and glanced down at the suitcase worriedly as they approached the Griffith. “Peggy, that smoke… are you feeling a little funny, too?”

Peggy smiled tightly at the girls in the lobby, making a beeline for the stairs. “Define funny.”

“Aroused?” Darcy muttered lowly. A girl passing by sent her a scandalized look, but Darcy was more concerned about the growing ache settling in between her thighs. 

Peggy nodded, her teeth clenching as the muscles in her jaw ticked a rapid-fire staccato. “I’m going to kill Howard.”

“And here I thought sex pollen was a modern-day thing,” Darcy muttered, and when her hand accidentally brushed Peggy’s she exhaled sharply, the blood rushing through her ears as the soft touch sent waves of want coursing through her body. “Y-you guys have vibrators in the ‘40s, right?”

“It’s nearly ten in the evening, where on earth do you think you’re going to find one?” They exchanged polite smiles with Carol, who lived down the hall, and when Darcy unlocked her door Peggy followed her inside, latching the deadbolt.

Darcy was already on the bed, legs squirming as she tried to sit still, and when Peggy came to sit beside her she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, hyperaware of the woman’s body heat. She squeezed her eyes shut, but all she could see on the backs of her eyelids are Peggy’s smile, the line of her neck, the curve of her waist –

“You’ve seen this before.” Darcy turned to look at Peggy, whose eyes dropped down to Darcy’s lips, then to the pale skin of her clavicles. She swallowed, fighting the urge to touch, but Peggy cleared her throat as she said, “How do we…?”

“We had paperwork for this kind of thing, believe it or not.” Darcy tried to smile, but it broke into soft pants. “Everyone chose someone to help out in case someone was ever caught in it…”

Peggy tried to even out her breathing, but Darcy could tell the chemical had worked quickly in Peggy. Before getting whisked into the past, Darcy had gotten chemical stabilizing shots against previous strains of sex-pollens, and it was probably the only reason she was still semi-coherent – it made it unnecessary to orgasm to burn off the lust-inducing chemicals, but it didn’t mean she was _comfortable_ , per se. It still made her want to jump Peggy’s bones… albeit more than usual.

“Will you…?” Peggy hissed, cheeks flushed as sweat broke out across her forehead, and her eyes flickered between the haze of lust and pain. Her hands were pressed hard into her lap, and Darcy felt herself clench at the sight of it. “Darcy, _please_ …”

Darcy’s vision started swimming, and she didn’t even remember herself nodding before they were kissing, mouths a mess of red lipstick and tongue and teeth, and she moaned when Peggy bit a trail down her neck, leaving a trail of red in her wake.

“Off.” Peggy tugged at her shirt, and Darcy broke away only long enough to yank her blouse over her head and her skirt to her feet, Peggy doing the same with her blazer as she fumbled with the buttons, and they crashed together again, feverish hands smoothing over smooth skin. Peggy wiggled out of her dress and slip, kicking off her heels, and Darcy swallowed at the seamed stockings that led to garters and high-waisted panties, as Peggy dragged one of Darcy’s hands down to press at between her thighs.

“Please.” Darcy was familiar with pleasing women, after a highly experimental sex life in college, and rubbed slowly at first though the cotton, watching as Peggy’s eyes rolled back and her hips began straining upwards for more friction. Darcy waited until she was chasing the edge of her orgasm, and then she sunk two fingers in, making Peggy bow off the bed in a silent scream, her eyelashes fluttering as she shook. Darcy moaned a little at the sight of her sprawled boneless across the bed, and after a moment Peggy sat up slowly, her eyes a little clearer.

“Come here.” Her voice was deliciously husky, and Darcy let herself be pulled forward into Peggy’s arms, chests brushing as they kissed.  “Should I…?”

“It’s okay.” Darcy smiled painfully. “It helps get it out faster, but I’ll survive. You good?”

“Very much, thank you.” Peggy studied her, stroking Darcy’s collarbones with feather-light strokes, and started trailing her hands down to the waistband of Darcy’s panties.

Darcy caught her hands, and blinked. “Peggy, I’ll be okay. You don’t have to.”

“What if I want to?” she said quietly, and at Darcy’s astonished look she turned away to try and hide the red tint to her cheeks.

“… I’d like that.” Darcy cleared her throat, and Peggy’s lips turned up into a smile. “Although, fair warning? Sometimes I can get pretty loud if I get too… well, y’know, but I’ll try to tone it down – _ah_!”

“Oh, don’t hold back on my account.” Peggy grinned; her hand already slipped under the edge of Darcy’s panties, and she leaned down for a kiss. “Though if you insist on it… well, I’ve always relished a challenge.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My brain is a strange place. With that said, it figures that the longest piece in this collection (so far) is probably the crackiest one, and also my first time writing any kind of smut whatsoever. 
> 
> I have no words.


	9. stranger interference (darcy x bruce)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **matching soulmate markings au** \+ batman crossover, darcy lewis x bruce wayne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know what happened with this one. 
> 
> Inspired by amusewithaview.

Darcy sipped at her glass of champagne, watching the crowd mill around below her, and sighed for what felt like the millionth time, her bare foot tapping against the sleek glass balustrade.

“You’re hiding.” Darcy huffed at Clint’s accusing voice.

“I hate these things, you know that.” She adjusted the comm-piece in her ear, disguised as cascading chandelier earring.

“If I have to do it then so do you.” She spotted Clint on the ballroom floor, a woman touching his shoulder suggestively as he looked up at her with wide, pleading eyes. “Help me, _please_.”

“Everyone else seems to be doing fine.” She cast a glance at the other Avengers, dotted in the crowd. Thor was easy to spot, although the crowd gathered around him blocked Jane from view, and Tony was chatting it up with three wealthy looking socialites, pulling his charming playboy routine. Bruce looked happily engaged in conversation with a small group of men, while Steve was speaking with what looked like a few members of the local police force, using the men to fend off the lecherous advances of numerous drunken women. “Any word on Gotham’s favorite antihero yet?”

“Wayne hasn’t arrived yet, but Tasha’s already left for the interception.” She hummed. “Now can you get your ass down here?”

“Should I though? Should I really ruin the dreams and the fantasies of that poor, poor – ”

“Don’t be so heartless.”

“… Fine, fine.” She rolled her eyes, draining what was left of her champagne as she yanked up the train of her dress with her free hand. She trudged over to the elevators, juggling the flute with her heels and purse as she jabbed at the button, muttering under her breath.

Clint’s voice sounded tight. “Hurry up, Lewis.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get your panties in a twist,” she grumbled. There was a choked laugh from behind her, and she looked over her shoulder to see a dark-haired man watching her in amusement – _wait, is that…?_

Huh. Darcy blinked.

 _Speak of the devil and he shall appear_.

He looked just as he did in the SHIELD surveillance pictures, andDarcy offered him a wry smile, admiring the way his suit stretched across his chest – he was nearly as broad as Steve, without the chemical enhancements – but at second glance he looked much less stiff in person. There was a twinkle of mischief in his eyes that gave his harsh features a softer look, and he was staring at her with mixture of curiosity and amusement – and a touch of appreciation, if the way his gaze had snapped up to meet hers was any indication.

She jumped when the elevator chimed, and flushed a little as she hurried inside, slamming the button for the first floor and slumping against the wood paneling with a huff. The handsome stranger’s lips quirked into a smile as he entered the car after her, the glint in his eyes knowing and amused, but he said nothing as she set her glass and purse down, hiking up the red silk to expose a pale, creamy leg. She noticed the sharp inhale of breath, and smiled to herself as she refastened the straps of her heel, trailing a hand up the length of her calf before letting her dress drop to the ground.

She smirked as she did the same thing with the other one, just in time to see the elevator doors open, and threw him a wink as he stepped aside to let her pass. He nodded, but just as the elevator doors were closing she turned back and gave him a knowing smile.

“See you around, Batman.” She watched the smile freeze on his face, and touched the comm in her ear as she strode towards the ballroom floor, and murmured lowly, “Tasha, he’s coming from the south side elevators in the lobby.”

“… Darcy, all the elevators are empty.” She stopped cold, whirling back around.

“What?” She cast a glance back at the crowd, before backtracking towards the corridor. “I was in the car with him, I _saw_ him. And the doors closed before – ”

She was cut off by when a hand latched around her wrist, and she could only let out half a yell before she was pulled into a dark alcove by a hulking silhouette that turned out to be Wayne. All she saw were his cold blue eyes before there was a forearm pressed hard into her neck, and a hand tight against her mouth.

“Who sent you?” His voice was deep, and gravely as he growled, “Who do you work for?!”

“A-agh!” She clawed at his arm, her nails doing nothing against the linen weave of his suit, and she pulled her knee up in a swift kick that landed right in his groin. To her surprise, he just groaned harshly, breathing heavily to work through the pain, but it was enough for her to jerk her mouth down to bite down on a mouthful of flesh, tasting blood.

He held fast, his only reaction a wince, but nevertheless drew his bleeding hand away and glared down at her. “That was a mistake.”

There was a low buzz from behind him, and as he tensed Darcy nearly sagged in relief when she heard Natasha’s smooth, detached voice. “I suggest you let her go, Mr. Wayne. We’re only here to talk.”  
  
He didn’t move still, clearly thinking of a way to disarm his assailant, but there was the familiar sound of a whistle just before an arrow buried itself into the wall, inches away from Wayne’s hand. Clint’s didn’t bother pulling punches as he placed another arrow in his bow, the tip digging into Wayne’s side. “Last warning.”

His head craned back to look over his shoulders, and he raised his eyebrows. “What do the Avengers want with her?”

“She’s one of ours.” He looked back down at Darcy in surprise, studying her for a heartbeat before letting go, only to catch her once she nearly collapsed.

The hardness had left his eyes, and as she got her bearings he seemed reluctant to let her go. His hand hovered behind her in case she fell again, but Darcy snorted, pulling herself away from him until Clint wrapped an arm around her for support. Wayne bristled at the gesture, and when she noticed she rolled her eyes.

“Uh-uh, you don’t get to go all alpha bat after pulling that stunt, buddy,” she croaked, and Wayne winced at the hoarseness of her voice. “Even if we _are_ soulmates.”

Both Clint and Natasha’s heads whipped around to stare at her, then back to Wayne, and then to her. “What?”

Darcy pulled back her hair to show the small, spidery handwriting that curled around her ear and down her hairline. “This is you, right?”

“Yeah.” He inhaled sharply and stared at his words on her, but when she let the hair fall again as he wordlessly tugged on his tie, undoing the half buttons of his crisp white shirt until pulling the fabric to the side. There, running across his ribcage in her chicken scratch, were the words, _See you around, Batman._

“I think… maybe we got off to a rough start.” He cleared his throat, trying to smile charmingly as he held out a hand to her. “My name is Bruce Wayne, CEO of Wayne Industries and Batman.”

“Darcy Lewis, political science major and Avengers liaison.” Darcy eyed his hand like it was a live grenade, reaching out to pump his hand up and down twice before letting go immediately. Wayne’s look of disappointment only worsened when Darcy stepped back again, wiping her hand on her dress and saying bluntly, “I don’t like you. ”

She turned to Natasha, ignoring’s Clint’s sniggering, and took off the earring-comms, placing the fake diamonds in Natasha’s hand. “He’s here, so I am going back to the tower, and eating my weight in Twinkies.” She stepped out of her heels, snatching them up as she began to walk away, but a gentle hand on her arm stopped her.

“Wait.” Wayne looked distinctly unsettled, uncomfortable even, and Darcy raised an eyebrow as he swallowed. “Is there… Can we talk?" 

“You probably should have said something like that earlier.” She stared at him, and pointedly pulled her arm back out of his grasp to wipe the blood from the corner of her mouth. “I’ll think about it.” She stalked off, her ruined updo half-spilling out of its twist as she walked away, and he watched her until she disappeared into an elevator.

“I suggest groveling.” Natasha murmured as she brushed past him, and Clint offered Wayne a pitying glance.

Clint patted him on the shoulder consolingly. “She likes corgis, if that helps.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bleh. I tried, but couldn't really get into this ship as much as I thought I would :/


	10. castaway (darcy x oliver)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **deserted island au** \+ arrow crossover, darcy lewis x oliver queen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo! First Darcy/Oliver fic on AO3. Not sure if that means I should be proud or if this is just another crack ship that exists only in my crazy mind. 
> 
> This is set post-Thor in late April 2012, but right before the events of the Avengers and pre-Arrow, where Oliver is rescued in mid-October 2012. So they'd probably have a good five or six months together.

When Darcy woke up on a beach, her face burning red under the scorching sun and water lapping at her ankles, she was greeted with a very sharp arrow pointed at her face.

“Holy fu—” She voice froze as the arrow dipped a little closer to the point between her eyes, and she quickly shut up to stare at the dark form of a man, silhouetted against the sun.

“ _Ni dao di cong na li lai de_?” The Chinese heavily accented, without the fluidity of a native speaker, but Darcy understood the hostility in the words more than the meaning. “ _Otkuda vy rodom_?”

The harsh Russian tones were more familiar. _Where did you come from?_

“ _Ya… b-byl na…”_ Her head was spinning, and Russian wasn’t one of her better languages. “ _Mnezhal_ , I-I don’t – my Russian isn’t – ”

“How did you get here.” It wasn’t even a question, more of a demand, and Darcy blinked as she tried to remember what had happened.

She had been in New Mexico when Jane was called out unexpectedly to some kind of SHIELD lab in Norway, only they hadn’t bothered paying for an additional ticket. Darcy was left to finagle her way to Northern Europe on her own, and she had been on a charter flight from Taiwan when they hit a surprise monsoon.

“I was on a plane; we were flying to Hong Kong from Taipei.” She swallowed, her throat scratchy from dehydration and sun exposure. “We… we got caught in a storm.” She shut her eyes, trying to block out the sounds of screaming and wailing alarms, and the phantom sensation of the plane shaking violently as they were tossed in the air. Cold water as black as the night sky above them, and holding onto pieces of wreckage to stay afloat after the life boats failed to disengage.

“… We crashed.” She looked up, squinting against the sunlight hitting her eyes, and felt like her stomach was going to turn in on itself as she asked, “Did you… Is there anyone else?”

The man didn’t say anything, just watching her for a few seconds more, before loosening the drawstring on the wood bow, and Darcy sighed in relief as the weapon moved away from her face.

“Twenty-nine bodies in the past two days; you’re number thirty.” She sat up slowly, trying to process that. “The only one alive.”

Her gut clenched, and she threw herself to the side just in time. She retched, vomiting up salt water and who knows what else, and felt tears blurring her eyes as she tried to keep her ratty hair out of her face. She was surprised when she felt a rough hand pulling her hair back, and its twin rubbing slow circles over her shoulder.

“O-oh god.” She gagged, trying to get the overwhelming salt taste out of her mouth, and the her coughs slowly turned into sobs as her body finally caught up to her brain. “Oh god, oh god, oh god…”

“I’m sorry.” She blinked at the rag he held out in front of her, tattered and threadbare, and took it to wipe at her eyes as she pulled off her glasses.

“Thank you,” she murmured, using the cloth to wipe the sand and salt residue from the lenses, and when she put them back on she looked up and froze in surprise. “… Oliver Queen?”

He raised his eyebrows, hair hidden under a ratty green hood and thick blonde-brown stubble hiding his mouth and chin. “You know who I am?”

“They said you died on that boat.” Darcy was still staring at him in stunned shock. He was thinner and leaner, but while his face was more or less the same it was his eyes that made her wonder how he had survived for the past five years. “How are you…?”

He didn’t answer and turned away, putting the arrows in his hand back in the makeshift quiver slung across his back. She yelped as he yanked her up, steadying her as her knees wobbled under her and pushed a leathery pouch into her hand. “Drink. It’s a two hour walk to my camp.”

She faltered as he walked off, not bothering to wait for her. “T-two hours?”

“You can come with me, or die alone, wandering in the jungle.” He looked back at her. “Your choice.”

Darcy just blinked a little, her mind trying to process his words, and she hurriedly took a swig from the pouch – oh _sweet baby Jesus_ water had never tasted so good – and stumbled after him into the foliage of the forest.

* * *

Three weeks later, she still had a hard time believing it.

_Oliver fucking Queen._

The first couple days were a lot of frustrated grunting and barked commands, with Oliver assigning her menial tasks like cleaning and cooking and washing. Then at the end of her first week, she had found a rusted set of BB guns buried at the bottom of one of Oliver’s crates, managing to disassemble both and modify them to shoot round, hard nuts she found on a bush near camp. She had snuck away early the next morning, and Oliver had woken up face to face with a wild boar.

“I went camping every summer for twelve years,” she had said when he finally asked. “And I have two brothers who’ve been the Midwest airsoft champions eight years running.”

After that, he had begrudgingly let her come out with him and help hunt for food, even when he muttered about how much noise she made when moving through the woods.

She stole a glance at him from the corner of her eye, watching him deftly pluck the pheasants he had shot down earlier that day. He had finally given up on the menacing silent treatment thing after Darcy had decided to update him on everything he had missed in his absence. At first it was stupid stuff, like pop culture and music and movies, but she only had to casually mention Merlyn Global before he cracked like an egg.

“Stop staring at me and start the fire,” Oliver grumbled, and Darcy grinned to herself a little as she took the knife and flint from the little bag at her side, setting a spark and feeding the embers until a decent-sized campfire was crackling merrily.

“As his grumpiness commands,” she muttered, and smiled to herself as Oliver threw her a glare. He stuffed the last of the wild onions and mushrooms into the plucked pheasants, and set up the birds on a stick spit to let it roast over the flames.

“So what’s on the board tonight?” She stretched, leaning back against a mossy rock, and looked up at the darkening sky. “There’s the wedding of Prince William to Kate Middleton, or the earthquake in Haiti… Greece filed for bankruptcy and killed the euro, but that’s a shitshow of politics that makes even _my_ head hurt. ”

It was becoming sort of a habit, for Oliver to ask about certain things that had happened in the outside world and for Darcy to talk about them at length. It had started off personal at first – the tidbits of news she had heard about Tommy Merlyn, his sister and mother, his ex-girlfriend Laurel Lance – before he had moved onto things that Darcy never would’ve guessed he had a vested interest in. They had covered everything from the fall of the American economy, Obama’s rise to president, and conflicts in the Middle East, to swine flu, the Japanese tsunami, and even the death of Michael Jackson.

“Tell me about you.” She blinked, and from across the fire Oliver stared at her unflinchingly.

“Me? Alright.” She laughed a little, playing with the loose dirt under her hands. “I was born in 1989, youngest kid of three and the only girl. My mom left when I was three, and my dad raised my brothers and me since. Grew up in the suburbs of Cincinnati, Ohio, and went to college in Virginia to get away from my protective father and _overly_ protective brothers. And four weeks ago I hopped on a plane to Europe, only I ended here instead. The end.”

Oliver frowned. “I was thinking about something more detailed.”

Darcy shrugged. “The movie version of my life will come out when I’m dead, ‘cause they’re probably going to want to cast some little teeny-bopper girl to play me and I’d probably kill myself just to avoid seeing it.”

It was a joke, but Oliver didn’t seem amused as he said, “What about New Mexico?”

Darcy’s mind flashed back to sun beating down on dark metal, fire and smoke filling her vision and Erik lying on the dirt ground, bleeding into the sand –

“I was there last summer for an internship, that’s all.” It came out clipped, with an edge that Darcy wasn’t intending, but Oliver knew he had struck a chord.

“I can hear the nightmares you have at night.” His voice was a little softer this time, and she closed her eyes as the little campfire began to shift into billowing flames that consumed the streets of Puente Antiguo. “You dream of being burned alive.”

“I don’t say anything about your night terrors, so at least do me the courtesy of doing the same.” She narrowed her eyes. “Who’s Shado?”

His face closed, stone-like for a moment, before she saw him physically force himself to open his expression. She saw pain and love and sorrow, but also overwhelming guilt.

“She was here on the island with me.” He looked away. “I killed her.”

“Oh.” She saw how he touched his hood, rubbing the material between his fingers, and wondered if it really happened like that or if it was the guilt talking.

He smiled a little wryly, poking at the cooked birds a little. “Yeah. Oh.”

She was quiet as he carved into the meat, doling out two portions and handing one to her. She took the food with a murmured thanks, and said lowly, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“I got shipwrecked on an island in the China Sea, fought my way into a cargo carrier, managed to get to Hong Kong and Vladivostok, and still ended up back on this hellhole of an island with no escape.” Oliver snorted, tearing into the meat of his food. “Try me.”

“A Norse god fell from the sky and fought with a giant alien death machine sent to kill him by his adopted brother.”

“… Right.” She chuckled as he frowned, going over the words again in his mind. “Norse? Like Odin and Thor and stuff?”

“Thor and Mew-mew, yeah.”

He made a face. “Isn't it Mjolnir?”

“Eh.” She shrugged. “Mew-mew has a nice ring to it.”

Oliver just hummed around the mouthful of food, and when he swallowed he leaned forward a little. “So what's he like?” For once, his face wasn’t set into a frown, or a glare, or the melancholy broody look he favored most of the time, as he looked genuinely curious. “Where is he from?”

“Okay, here.” She wiped her hands on her shirt, smoothing out the dirt in front of her and starting a drawing of a tree in the dirt. Oliver tried seeing over the fire, but gave up and sat next to her as she made nine little circles, spread in the branches of the tree.

“I’m just gonna assume you don’t know anything about Norse mythology, yeah?” Darcy squinted a little in the yellowing light, and Oliver nodded. “Okay, so there’s nine realms, that are connected through the great tree of Yggdrasil – Earth is called Midgard to them, and Thor is from a place called Asgard, home of the Aesir…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More of a getting to know each other fic than _bam, instant attraction!_ but I could see them getting together after being stuck together on the island for a few months.


	11. dreaming of you (darcy x jemma x leo)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **meet in a dream au** \+ reincarnation au, darcy lewis x jemma simmons x leo fitz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't watch Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. much anymore (stopped after the first season) so I'm not sure where this would fit in in terms of their timeline.

“Oh, it must be _her_.” Darcy opened her eyes, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the brightness of the light, and sat up, coming face to face with two strangers staring back at her.

Darcy scratched her head. “Uh, who are you?”

“My name is Jemma, and this is Leo, though I like to call him Fitz.” The girl, with a wide smile and lovely British accent, held out a hand, waiting until Darcy reached out to shake it hesitantly. “It’s so lovely to finally meet you, but I suppose I should have guessed when we woke up in these incredibly beautiful outfits – ”

“Speak for yourself,” Fitz said ruefully as he tugged on the hem of the toga he wore. “I’m about a half bend away from flashing some poor bloke.”

“Okay, hold up for a second.” Darcy looked over both of them, then herself. “Why are we all wearing togas? And where the hell are we?”

“Technically ours are called _peplos_ ,” Jemma said helpfully, “and Fitz has a _chiton_ , though we’re all wearing _himation_ cloaks… they’re a lot lighter than they look on the statues, don’t they, Fitz?”

“Well how else are you supposed sculpt clothing, Jemma?” Fitz sighed affectionately. “I mean, it’s marble, you can’t exactly go about – ”

Darcy coughed, trying not to feel uncomfortable, as the two strangers were clearly very close. “Okay, sorry to butt in, but still in the dark here.”

“Oh!” Jemma blushed, and Darcy found it somewhat adorable as Fitz fidgeted and looked down in clear nervousness.

“Erm, that is…” Fitz shuffled his feet. “See, Jemma came up with this absolutely ridiculous theory about how we’ve all lived through past lives – ”

“Just because it hasn’t been proven yet doesn’t mean reincarnation isn’t real, Fitz.”

Darcy blinked, furrowing her eyebrows. _Did she just say reincarnation?_

Jemma rolled her eyes, and Darcy got the distinct feeling that this was a common argument amongst the two. “I mean, you have people like Skye and Thor, and something as simple as rebirth bothers you?" 

“I just don’t like it.” Fitz sniffed, and mumbled, “What if we were terrible people or something? I don’t want to have to live with that for the rest of my life, and forever after that!”

Jemma patted him on the shoulder. “You always get so dramatic about these things, Fitz, you have to stop thinking so negatively!” Jemma turned back to Darcy, who was still trying to process _reincarnation_ , of all things. “I’m sorry, what was your name again?”

“Darcy,” she said numbly.

“Jane Austen, how lovely!” Jemma beamed. “Well, like Fitz was saying, I have a theory that we’ve all lived out other lives, in one form or another – and we’re somehow linked, the three of us – although it took us a while to figure out that we were waiting for a third person, since we thought the arguments were because Fitz and I spent so much time together…”

“You said that training a capuchin monkey to do lab work would be a biohazard, why wouldn’t I get angry?” Fitz muttered, but Jemma ignored him as she continued.

“But we’ve had these strange… sense memories, almost, like the first time I had ever eaten Indian food, and somehow I _knew_ the tikka masala I ordered was missing cardamom and cumin even though I’d never had it before, and when Fitz visited Rome when he was little and told the tour guide that his history was totally wrong …” Jemma hesitated at Darcy’s paling face. “… Something like that happened to you too, hasn’t it?”

“When I was eight I thought I made up a language and taught it to all my friends – and then my teacher asked me where I learned to speak Japanese.” Darcy exhaled slowly, stumbling back a little until she collapsed into a soft, cushioned lounge chair with an incredulous laugh. “Languages always came easy to me, but I didn’t think…”

“That’s fantastic!” Darcy shut her eyes, the beginnings of a headache growing in her temples, and Fitz recognized the scrunched up look of pain as he gently pulled Jemma away, letting Darcy have some space. He muttered to Jemma lowly, and though she looked unhappy with whatever he said she nodded, and Fitz came back to Darcy to take the seat next to her.

“Look, I… I know Jemma is excited, but I… we understand, if you need some time to think.” He hesitated before reaching out to hold Darcy’s hand, and gave her a nervous smile. “But we would like to get to know you, properly this time now that we know about you, but I’m glad that you’re here, Darcy.”

“No, of course, I just… It’s a lot to take in.” She squeezed his hand, smiling a little as the tips of his ears turned red, and said shakily, “You said you and Jemma met a while ago?”

“Seven years.” Jemma was back, perching delicately on the arm of the couch and keeping a careful distance. Somehow, that made Darcy feel disappointed. “We’re met at an exclusive school in Pennsylvania, and now we’re working with company that deals with… security.” Fitz twitched a little, and Darcy made a mental note about it. “Fitz’s specialty is engineering while I prefer biochemistry.”

Darcy laughed a little. “Funny, my major was computer science before I switched to poli-sci." 

“Computers?” Fitz perked up. “You’d get along with Skye then, she’s brilliant with – ”

“Fitz!” Jemma hissed, sending him a pointed look.

He rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t going to say anything that would – ”

“You know that Agent Coulson wouldn’t like – ”

“Did you just say _Agent_ Coulson?” Both Fitz and Jemma stopped short, staring at her. “As in, Phil Coulson, of SHIELD?”

Jemma had jumped back defensively, pulling out a gun – _what the hell, where did that come from?_ – while Fitz looked utterly horrified, hyperventilating as he said, “ _Of course_ our third ends up being a HYDRA agent, of _course_ – ”

“Whoa, so _not_ HYDRA, guys.” Darcy held her hands up, but Jemma didn’t lower the gun. “I work with the Avengers, aka the good guys? Jane Foster’s intern… yeah, _so_ not a HYDRA mole, thanks.”

Any hysteria on Fitz’s part disappeared quickly. “Jane Foster?” Fitz looked starry-eyed. “You work for _Jane Foster_?”

Jemma was albeit more practical, and watched her for a moment before relaxing in relief. “Oh thank god.” The gun in Jemma’s hands dissipated into thin air, and any doubts Darcy had about this being a dream were quickly dispelled – part of her wondered if Jemma and Fitz were dreams in and of themselves; maybe this was all just the result of her overactive imagination? “How do you know Agent Coulson?”

“He stole my iPod.” Jemma blinked, as Fitz was still a little star-struck. “He came to New Mexico when Thor dropped out of the sky; I was part of the first contact.”

“You’re Darcy _Lewis_ ,” Jemma breathed, eyes wide as she connected the dots. “And you work for the Avengers now? Oh that’s _wonderful_ , you’ll be safe with them.”

“ ‘ _Safe_?’ ” Darcy raised an eyebrow. She might’ve felt a little light-headed, but she wasn’t a damsel in distress. She trained with the Black Widow herself, for God’s sake.

Jemma fell silent, but Fitz jumped in after snapping out of his reverie, unknowingly digging himself into a hole. “We’ve been doing fewer missions since the fall of SHIELD, mostly Coulson trying to rebuild; it’s been tough since HYDRA emerged, but you don’t have to worry about any of that.” 

She wanted to say otherwise, tell them about the weekly attacks on Stark Tower and the foiled kidnapping attempts on both her and Jane, but kept quiet. Jemma had such an earnest look of relief on her face, and Fitz seemed genuinely sweet, and it didn’t feel right to burst their bubble.

On the other hand, breaking the news of Coulson’s survival to the Avengers was free game.

She looked down at her watch out of habit, and then did a double take as she could see through herself onto the couch behind her. “So what exactly does it mean when I become more transparent?”

Jemma looked disappointed. “It means you’re waking up,” Fitz said, and pressed a photo into her fading hand. “Just want you to see this before you go – we think it's you, in your very first life – it’s why we’re all dressed like this.”

Darcy stared down at the image with a small sense of wonder, a trio of carved marble busts lined up side by side. The woman in the middle looked like her, only with a more stubborn tilt to her chin and nose, deeper-set eyes, a wider nose, and thinner lips, while the two on either side of the bust were near-perfect matches for a grinning Jemma and scowling Fitz. “Who were we?”

“You were Sappho,” Jemma said. “I was Anactoria, and Fitz was Alcaeus.”

“The ancient Greek lyric poet, and her lovers.” Darcy knew of her, and the words poured from her mouth unbidden as her tongue formed the unfamiliar words. “ _Kai gelaisâs îmeroen to m’ ê mân kardiân en stêthesin eptoaisen –_ ”

“ – _ôs gar es s’ idô brokhe’ ôs me phônai- s’ oud’ en et’ eikei_ ,” Fitz finished, his eyes sparkling, and Jemma looked like the smile would burst off her face.

“We’ll find you,” she promised, and the last thing Darcy saw before she faded away was Jemma and Fitz hugging, laughing in joy and disbelief.

When she woke up, she found an email from [j.simmons@shield.gov](mailto:j.simmons@shield.gov) and [leopold_fitz@shield.gov](mailto:leopold_fitz@shield.gov), and took a deep breath before writing a reply.

* * *

And how you laugh your charming laugh. Why it  
makes my heart flutter within my breast,  
because the moment I look at you, right then, for me,  
to make any sound at all won’t work any more.  
\- Sappho, Fragment 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not too sure how I feel about this one, but hurrah for the first triad!


	12. betrothal complications (darcy x fandral)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **arranged marriage au** \+ medieval au, darcy lewis x fandral

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is kind of late, but my excuse is that it turned into a monster of close to 2800+ words. I don't really know how that happened.

"It won't be as bad as you think, doll." James gave her a sympathetic smile. "He’s a good man, even if he has his weaknesses."

She had been betrothed from birth to Lord Fandral, one of Prince Thor’s closest companions and a man almost a decade her senior. As a child, she had spent summers in Asgard, playing with other children and running away from her minders, but when she was old enough to understand exactly why she was being carted off to the neighboring kingdom, she was thrust into gowns and dresses and introduced to the social circles of Asgard’s court with her fiancé as her escort. It was like living in a fairytale, with a handsome prince on her arm as the cherry on top – she had nursed an embarrassing crush on him throughout her childhood years, and it was perfect for all of maybe thirty minutes.

But the glamour of it all wore off quickly – she was short and awkward, self-conscious of her teenage body compared to the willowy, tall figures that were favored in Asgard’s court. Fandral had no patience for a fiancée he saw as nothing more than a child, especially during court balls and celebrations – he made every effort to excuse himself as soon as he could, and oftentimes she saw him being led off by a woman as she was left to sit alone at the banquet table as everyone else danced.

"Easy for you to say." She looked over to Steve, stationed at the rear end of the rather small convoy sent to escort her to her new home. "You get to travel the realms with a husband you love, not play wife to a womanizer."

“I guess.” James couldn't help but smile, glancing at the blonde with an expression full of love, and Darcy couldn't help the twisting jealousy that settled in her stomach.

Eventually, she had stopped going to the social events and parties, feigning sickness or nausea, and spent the evenings holed up in the library or weaving tapestries in her rooms. During the day, she stole out of the palace walls through the servant’s quarters, taking the chance to explore the city and interact with the people, but any acquaintances she made were kept at a careful but cordial distance; she couldn’t even let out her frustrations in the training yards – Asgard’s combat style was vastly different than what Natasha had taught her, and she didn’t want to risk the chance to running into Fandral any more than she had to.

In short, she was lonely.

On rare occasions, Thor himself dropped by to coax her out of hiding, but his idea of fun was bringing her on outings and ‘getting lost’ to leave her alone with Fandral. Their interactions stilted and silent – her replies to whatever polite conversation starters he chose were always quiet and distant, and she had no desire to hear tales of his exploits in war or his conquests with women.

Still, somehow the thought of him made something in her chest twinge a little, even if she had learned to ignore it.

“He’s honorable, Darcy.” James reached over and squeezed her hand comfortingly. “He won’t do anything to hurt you.”

“If you say so.” She steeled herself as the gates opened, a smile rising as she saw Thor beaming at her. The leaner blonde-haired man next to Thor straightened up when her eyes moved to him, and Darcy’s smile froze as she realized whom he was.

Fandral. Her  _fiancé_.

The man smiled at her, almost tentatively, but she turned away as Thor came forward.

“Lady Darcy!” Thor dismounted his horse smoothly, sweeping her up into a bear hug. “I have missed you dearly, shield-sister.”

Darcy held onto Thor’s shoulders tightly, the embrace warm and familiar. “I missed you too, big guy.”

Thor released her, and beamed as he took her hand and led back her to the man, who fumbled with the reins of both horses as they approached.

“He looks like he wants to run for the hills,” Darcy muttered, and she didn’t realize how saying it out loud would somehow make it hurt more _._ Her mind strayed back to the bag of clothes and money stashed deep at the bottom of her trunk, ready to go at a moment’s notice.  _Don’t be a hypocrite._

“Do not judge him so harshly, sister,” Thor chastised her quietly, looking down at her with a knowing glance. “He has been awaiting your return most anxiously.” She blinked at him a little in surprise as he placed her hand in Fandral’s.

“It has been far too long, Lady Darcy.” He smiled, hesitant as he bent over her hand in greeting. “You look… well.” He was more soft-spoken than she’d remembered, gentler even with his movements, he looked down at her with such a nervous smile that she hesitated before she hardened her heart.

“You too,” she said shortly, and drew her hand away from his grasp. Thor looked a little disappointed at her impolite response, but Fandral’s expression had dropped completely before it was replaced by a false smile. His face lightened a little when James and Steve came forward, exchanging greetings and embracing them warmly, but when the convoy was given the go ahead to enter the gates the corners of his mouth turned down, and remained that way as he watched her step back into her carriage.

* * *

 

The moment she had stepped off her carriage, Darcy was swept up in a flurry of wedding preparations, from her dress fittings for her new wardrobe to All-Speak lessons for her vows. She was constantly surrounded by people, ushered to and from appointments from dawn until dusk  – not to mention, everyone and their mother was coming up to her and offering their congratulations, even if some women threw in a few subtle insults that made her want to smack their faces. Instead, she had given them a gritted smile that had become a permanent fixture on her face, growing more and more strained as her wedding day approached.

The option of running away seemed more and more attractive, consequences be damned.

“You look like you’re marching to your death.” Jane, Thor’s wife and one of the few people Darcy could stand to be around, was never one to mince words, and Darcy huffed.

“I might as well be.” She looked at herself in the mirror, dressed in a gown far more luxurious than anything she had ever owned, and dripping in jewels that were probably worth more than the entirety of her family’s estate. “After this I’ll be expected to sit in a room and embroider until my fingers fall off.”

Jane rolled her eyes. “It’s not that bad.”

Darcy held up her hands, showing off the faint, white pinprick scars dotting her fingertips. “The last time I went I spent four hours bleeding all over my stitches.”

“Oh, whoa.” Jane grabbed her left hand, tugging it down so she could examine the ring on her fourth finger. The large gem, sitting between two small pearls and set in a band of platinum and silver, shimmered in the light, changing from a deep blue to a turquoise green as the light caught on the facets. “Is that alexandrite?”

“The dwarvish version, or something like that.” Darcy looked down at the shifting colors, and bit her lip as she remembered the way Fandral had, almost reverently, slipped it onto her finger – and the funny little smile that settled onto his face as she pulled her hand away. If she didn’t know better, she’d call it bitterness, or even hurt.

“Having second thoughts?” Jane waved a hand to get Darcy’s attention, and she swallowed, shaking her head.

“Well yeah, but…” she trailed off, scrunching her nose as she tried to explain herself. “Is it just me, or has Fandral been acting funny?”

“Funny?” Jane raised an eyebrow.

“Just like, I don’t know – he’s being weird about all of _this_ ,” Darcy gestured vaguely towards her dress, and her ring. “And he keeps popping up out of nowhere, asking about how things are going and if I’m excited, and… I don’t know, it’s just kind of weirding me out.”

“It’s called being nice, Darcy,” Jane said in amusement, chuckling a little. “You’re getting married, what did you expect him to do, parade around with another woman on his arm?”

Darcy tried not to flinch, but she failed, and Jane’s teasing smile fell.

“Oh, Darcy – ” Jane reached up to grasp her hands. “I was just joking, I’m sorry – ”

“It’s fine.” Darcy pulled her hands away. “He can do whatever he wants.”

Jane touched her shoulder. “That was mean, I’m sorry.”

She shrugged. “Not like it isn’t true.”

“What are you talking about?” Jane looked confused. “Besides Sif and me, Fandral hasn’t even danced with a woman since you last visited.”

“You and I have very different impressions of him, Jane.” Darcy pulled off the bracelets on her wrists, undoing the clasp of the heavy necklace draped around her neck and throwing all of it into the seat of a chair. “And besides, it’s been what, three years? I find that hard to believe.”

“Don’t say that, Darcy.” Jane frowned. “I thought you used to like him?”

“Not anymore,” she muttered, turning away from Jane and pulling out the hairpins in her complicated updo with slightly more force than necessary, tossing them onto the boudoir carelessly. She tried reaching behind her and undoing the corset fastening her dress, but after her fingers got tangled in the delicate ribbons Jane gently pushed her hands out of the way.

Darcy let her shoulders fall. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Jane hummed, helping Darcy step out of the heavy gown and handing her a simpler, gauzy frock that draped over her silhouette gently. “You have enunciation lessons soon, right?”

Darcy nodded, eyes flickering to the clock and sighing heavily. “More like now.” She pulled up the straps of her dress, running a hand through her loose hair and slipping on a sensible pair of flat slippers. “I’ll see you later?”

“Of course.”

 Darcy smiled, but turned away before she could see Jane’s pensive expression as she left the room. 

* * *

 

Darcy froze at the sight of him, waiting at the doors of her chambers, and before she could duck back around the corner he had spotted her, straightening up as his eyes met hers. She cursed internally as she walked over, and curtseyed in reply to his bow and greeting.

“Lord Fandral.” She smiled at him tightly. “What brings you to my door?”

“You’re missing the feast,” he said, and held out a hand in offering. “I thought I’d escort you there.”

Her mouth felt like plastic, aching with the effort of holding her pleasant expression. “Thank you, but I already ate – I stopped at the kitchens on my way back.”

“… Right.” He seemed to deflate a little, but smiled at her charmingly. “Could I perhaps interest you with a stroll in the gardens?”

“No thank you, I’m allergic to the flowers.” She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest, glancing at the door behind him pointedly. “May I?”

“Oh, of course, I’ll just…” He stepped aside, pulling the door open for her, and she was a little surprised when he made to follow her inside, but faltered at the doorway.

“Is there anything else I could help with, Lord Fandral?” she asked, and slipped out of her shoes, burying her toes into the thick fur rug.

“… I have a question for you, Lady Darcy.” She faced him, and that funny little smile was back, not reaching his eyes. “One that I hope you would be willing to answer honestly.”

“Shoot.”

“Have I done something to offend you so deeply?” Darcy blinked a little at the raw honesty in his voice, and Fandral cleared his throat awkwardly as he looked down. “That is, have I done something to make you so loathe the idea of being my wife?”

 _Jane told him_.

She swallowed, not really sure what to say, and something akin to resignation flittered across his face at her silence. She looked away, playing with the loose fabric of her dress, and tried to think of what she could say.

“I see.” He exhaled softly. “Had I known of your feelings, I would have…”

“Would have what?” Darcy watched him carefully. “Can the betrothal contract be broken?”

“No.” Fandral looked ashamed as he admitted, “I had… tried, once. To find a loophole. But the agreement is bound by magic, and unbreakable.”

“Oh.” Somehow, the revelation that he had tried breaking the contract made her pause in hurt, and he smiled at her wryly, absorbing her unspoken disappointment.

“I was young and arrogant, and cruel – perhaps foolish above all.” He bowed his head.  “My thoughts were greedy and driven by my selfishness, when they should have been on you.”

“You were two and twenty, stuck with a girl who only just gotten her first moon’s blood a year prior.” Darcy shrugged. “I understand.”

“Perhaps you do, but I hurt you.”

“It just took some getting used to, that’s all.” When he raised an eyebrow in response, she shifted, licking her lips. “I know you… _enjoy_ the company of women – ”

“My dalliances.” She pursed her lips at the word, the way he made it sound proper.

“Right, those. Where I come from, no matter at what age, the betrothal bond is considered sacrosanct; to pursue other men or women while bonded is violating your oath to your intended in the most offensive way possible.” Darcy bit her lip, staring him in the eye. “Your actions basically said that I wasn’t worth your time nor your attention, and that you saw me as less than an equal.”

“I dishonored you.” His face was set in a stoic expression, but his hands were white, clenched tight at his sides. “Lady Darcy, words are not apology enough – ”

“It’s already all said and done.” She wrapped her arms around herself, hugging her torso. “I got used to it.”

“I knew you disliked me, but I thought it was resentment from being forced into marriage with me – I had continued to keep my distance in hopes that it would give you the space to lessen your anger.” He was quiet for a few moments, and laughed a little sadly to himself, scrubbing his face with his hand. “And here I thought I could…” He shook his head. “It was a foolish idea.”

“What idea?”

“I had thought to romance you.” He flushed a little. “Only you seemed like you couldn’t wait to run away from me.”

Any heat that would’ve originally been put into her words had faded into something forlorn. “I just figured you would want to get back to whomever had caught your eye.”

“ _You_ were the one who had caught my eye.” He shook his head, turning back to the door. “I stopped my trysts once you turned of age, when you were finally old enough to court. I had hoped that by spending time together we could grow to care for each other, but you never returned to spend time here.”

Darcy looked at him, eyebrows furrowed. “Why did you stop then?”

“… Before you left, you said that you would rather marry someone plain and faithful, rather than one who was handsome yet disloyal.” Fandral shuffled a little nervously. “It took some time for me to realize that you were talking about me – and to realize how poorly I had treated you when you were growing up. I wanted to be better.”

She stared at him a little dumbfounded, too shocked to speak as she tried to process his words, and when minutes passed he bowed his head and turned back to the door. Before he stepped out, he looked back at her over his shoulder.

“I will not ask for your forgiveness, but know that I am truly sorry for betraying your trust.” He hesitated, and said, “I just hope that one day, I can prove myself as a man you could be proud to call your husband.”

The door snapped shut behind him, and Darcy was left staring at the place he had been standing at.

_What just happened?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming back to edit later, just wanted to put it out before I fall asleep on my laptop!  
> Also, will answer comments once I catch up on sleep :)


	13. playing pretend (darcy x grant)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **handcuffed together au** \+ mr. and mrs. smith au, darcy lewis x grant ward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So fair warning, just in case, this may come off as dub-con/non-con, but I want to say that it's a PWP piece with somewhat particular role-play fantasies being played out. I just want to give ample warning in case anyone is uncomfortable with that. 
> 
> In this verse, Grant Ward (of AoS) is not a lying liar of a HYDRA rat and is SHIELD through and through. Also, Darcy somehow gets roped into Coulson's team, and Darcy is dating Ward.
> 
> Also, the Mr. and Mrs. Smith AU part is more part of the role-play fantasy than in the actual reality of the verse. And the handcuffed together prompt is probably not what you guys were thinking.

“You fucking liar,” Darcy hissed, digging her nails into the flesh of his hand, and even though he didn’t make any noise she found a perverse satisfaction in feeling the blood seeping under her fingernails. “I can’t believe I married a HYDRA scumbag.”

“Say it again, if it makes you feel any better,” Ward sighed heavily, flipping the carving knife to press at her fingers threateningly. “But do that again and I’ll start ripping out your nails.”

She stiffened, loosening her clenched grip on him, and yelled indignantly when Ward deftly ripped away the hem of her dress, using the strip to bind his bleeding hand after he dumped the remaining contents of a lone tumbler on the crescent shaped wounds. The whiskey – poured neat, three fingers – was probably the only thing left untouched in the wreckage of the apartment, sitting innocuously on the laminate counter riddled with bullet holes and broken glass, ready to be drunk. The irony of it wasn’t lost on her.

Hand taken care of, Ward pulled on the handcuffs roughly, and she stumbled after him, wincing at the shards of glass that crunched under her combat boots. Casting a glance at the second set of handcuffs that linked one of her wrists to his, she scowled.

“You couldn’t have just zip-tied me like a normal psychopathic HYDRA rat?”

“And deny you the pleasure of my company?” He pulled Darcy into his chest, holding her wrists tight so she couldn’t take a cheap shot at him and placing a mocking kiss on her cheek. “I wouldn’t be that cruel."

“Bite me,” she growled, shoving him back.

“Suit yourself.” He stared down at her, eyes hardening, and jerked her to the car. Hope swelled in her chest when he undid one handcuff, but before she could react he had already latched it onto the grab-handle inside the car, just above the door. “Get in.”

She seethed in silence, refusing to move, but he raised an eyebrow. “Either you get in, or get dragged across the pavement.”

“Fuck you,” she hissed, and his amused smile grew as she threw herself into the seat, and muttered obscenities under her breath as Ward pulled the seatbelt across her lap, reaching across her chest to buckle her in.

“Maybe later, sweetheart.” Her stomach rolled at the promise, but when he slid a hand up her thigh she hated the way her breath caught and her legs fell open a little wider. He inhaled sharply, breathing in the subtle, heady scent of her arousal.“… Frustrated, love?”

“You were gone for three weeks.” She gritted her teeth, scowling at the pet names. “If you had just waited until _after_ we had sex then maybe I wouldn’t be so pissed off.”

She glared out the windshield, jaw clenched as he stared at her face. “Really?” he murmured, and she could see the smug smile that grew when she flinched at the gentle brush of his fingers against her upper inner thighs – _so close, fuck_ –

“What if I get you off right now?” His voice lowered, sultry and dark in a way that shot down her spine, making her sit up and arch a little as he traced the edge of her panties with his thumb. “Make you scream my name? Make you come with my hands and my mouth?”

She whimpered involuntarily, her eyes rolling back as he pushed aside the lacy thong she wore and slowly eased a finger into her. He used his other hand to spread her legs open, the seatbelt keeping her from grinding down to get more friction, and he leaned down to scrape his teeth against the delicate skin of her neck, right over her pulse.

Darcy threw her head back, thrusting her chest up and baring her neck, and cried out when he suddenly sunk three fingers into her, curling up as his thumb drew circles around her clit. Her hands shook in the cuffs, arms straining against the bonds, and she didn’t even realize that her senseless babbling of _‘oh god, please, yes yes right there, oh god, god – Grant, **please** – ”_ wasn’t just in her head as he took the distraction to undo the seat belt.

She whined when he pulled his hands away, squirming in the car seat in a desperate need for friction, but he grabbed her hips and pulled her halfway out of the car, far enough so that her hips were on the edge of the seat. She tried to figure out what he was doing, but all her senses were suddenly filled with him, a hand twisting into her hair, and while she heard him undoing his belt everything faded as he slanted his mouth over hers.

He kissed her roughly, stubble scratching her cheeks and his tongue sweeping across her mouth in deft, confident strokes that made her tremble, but Darcy was the one that broke away with a gasp, breath stuttering as she felt the slow, delicious slide of his cock against her clit, slipping into her with a stretch that made her hands claw at the air in vain.

“God, just fuck me already!” She bucked her hips, the tilt making him sink into her in a way that made him hiss. “Please, I – _ah, ah_ – !”

“Like that?” he teased, snapping his hips in two quick thrusts, but going back to the excruciatingly slow pace from before.

 _“Yes.”_ Her glare could make hell freeze over. “You better start fucking me properly, or so help me God, Ward, I will kill you where you stand.”

“As you wish,” he breathed, and ducked down to suck a trail of bruises into the side of her neck as he set a brutal pace, using his hands to pull her down onto him more deeply and soaking in her high-pitched whines as she chased her climax. Darcy felt the telltale pressure building in her abdomen, her thighs tensing and Ward used his hands to curl her legs over his shoulders, deepening the angle with a groan.

“Come on, baby,” he murmured, and when he reached down to rub at her clit Darcy saw stars, her legs spasming and her eyes rolling back as the pulses ran through her core. Ward lasted for a few more haphazard thrusts, pulling out and coming on her thighs, but he smiled at her apologetically when he finished, pulling some tissues from the glove compartment.

“I got some on your dress,” he said, frowning a little as he tried scrubbing on the stain, but Darcy sat up, shrugging.

“Laundry day’s tomorrow, no worries.” She rattled the handcuffs expectantly.

“You didn’t use the hairpin trick this time.” He pulled out the key, swiftly unlocking the metal cuffs, and Darcy lowered her arms with a sigh of relief, rubbing her wrists gratefully as Ward looked on in concern. “Did I close them too tight?”

“Just didn’t feel like it, and no, that was perfect.” She stretched, cracking her back, and sighed happily as she relaxed into the car seat. “Shall we go? Coulson said to be back by six.” 

“Yeah.” Grant smiled her affectionately, doing up his pants and smoothing down her skirt, closing the car door. He climbed into the drivers seat, looking at her for a moment before leaning over to press a kiss to her cheek. “Not that I didn’t have fun, but it concerns me that you have sex fantasies about me being a HYDRA mole.”

“Ever seen the movie _Mr. and Mrs. Smith_?” Darcy kicked her feet up, putting them on the dashboard, and Grant rolled his eyes. “That sexual tension, dude – that’s what makes it hot. And besides, we both know that you’d defect in fear of Thor.”

“Probably.” Grant paled a little at the memory of the thunder god’s version of a shovel talk, which consisted of hunting bilgesnipes and testing his skill against Thor’s in battle. Needless to say, he failed terribly, but was given a pass because Darcy asked. “Being SHIELD is much less troublesome than being electrocuted to death.”

He started the engine, pulling out of the driveway and leaving the house he and Darcy were supposed to be investigating, and Darcy patted her boyfriend’s hand consolingly. “I knew I chose well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to practice writing smut >.> I almost fell asleep writing this, which is the result of one of two things... neither of which is a very good sign :/


	14. skin and satin (darcy x thor)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **stripper au** \+ sex dream au, darcy lewis x thor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set pre-Thor.
> 
> I was listening to Crazy in Love (the 50SoG version - I don't condone the books, but this track is addicting) while writing this, so if you wanna get in the mood... 
> 
> Late post because of Valentine's Day :P

“He asked for me?” Darcy’s hands were shaking as the Madam gave her a slim key, and the older woman raised an eyebrow. “Me, specifically?”

“Lord Odinson outbid the rest for the rest of your night, Miss Lewis,” the Madam murmured, smirking. “Have fun.”

Darcy gulped, adjusting the dark blue corset she was wearing as the Madam pointed her down the hall, and unlocked the door, her eyes adjusting to the dim, yellow lamps that bathed the room in golds and oranges.

“Hello.” She froze at the voice, turning to see the handsome stranger from the back booth sitting on the sofa, wearing a red coat over slacks and a white shirt, his legs spread wide in front of him as his arms stretched out over the back of the couch.

She gave him her best seductive smile, trying to hide the nervousness that bubbled in her stomach at his appreciative once-over, and sauntered in front of him, perching delicately on the glass coffee table that rested in front of the sofa. 

“Anything more you would like tonight, sir?” she murmured, and he smiled a slow, dangerous smile that had shivers running down her skin.

“Add a striptease and lapdance,” he said lowly, watching her with intense blue eyes, and Darcy nodded, internally hyperventilating as she stepped between his open thighs, but she hesitated as a thought occurred to her.

“Do you know the rules?” She bit her lip as he continued to gaze up at her, and stammered, “If I say the word ‘ _carmine_ ,’ you must – ”

She was cut off by a warm hum, stiffening when she felt his hands wrap around her waist, his fingers nearly touching. She tried to not moan as he rubbed firm little circles into her hipbones just below the edge of the corset with his thumbs, dipping down just enough to edge under the hem of her little thong. “Yes,” he murmured, and she had the sinking feeling she was getting in over her head. “I know the rules.”

“G-good.” Her voice squeaked a little at the end, and part of her hoped she could hold out long enough to not embarrass herself in front of him. His predatory smile softened a little, and Darcy was taken aback when he pushed her hair behind her ear, caressing her cheek.

“Relax, little one,” he said, and he stroked the skin of her cheek. “It’s just you and me.”

She giggled, his eyes brightening at the sound of her laugh. “You’re the whole reason I’m nervous,” she murmured, and Lord Odinson chuckled as he pulled his hands back, laying them at his sides as he the music started.

_Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh no no…_

She closed her eyes, all to aware of the gaze burning into her body, devouring the sight of pale skin and black satin. Swinging her hips in time to the throaty, sultry voice, she lifted a stocking-clad leg into his lap, resting the stiletto heel right between his thighs and trailing her hands up the length of her leg, unclipping the garters at the top. She started pushing the stocking down, but held her breath as he pushed her hands away and pulled the sheer fabric down himself, one hand guiding the cloth as the other caressed the outside of her thigh, sliding down to wrap around her ankle before slipping away.

He did the same with the other leg, only this time he didn’t let go; Darcy blinked at the mischievous glint in his eyes, but his gaze darkened as she placed a leg on either side of his hips, her hands settling on his shoulders for leverage.

She held her breath as he slid his large, large hands up her thighs, stopping where her garters ended, and watched intently as Darcy trailed her hands across her cleavage, caressing the skin there as the paleness of her skin was offset by the dark, lacy corset that pushed her breasts up to the point of spilling out.

Darcy couldn’t help watching him as she unhooked the ties of her corset, tugging on the ribbon until the structured garment opened to reveal her breasts, dusted with body shimmer. She ran her hands across them, arching her back to thrust her chest forward, and he lifted his hands to cup her breasts in his palms, kneading at them gently. Darcy knew it was too much to hope that he wouldn’t notice the way her nipples hardened at his touch, poking into his palms.

She let her own hands trail over the open coat and the shirt that did nothing to hide his muscular torso, smoothing her hands across the crisp fabric. She slowly toyed with the top button, brushing her fingers against the skin of his collarbones before snaking down to give a teasing pull on his belt that made his hips jerk up. He growled, pupils blown wide in desire as she unclipped her garter belt and lowered herself into his lap.

He bit back a groan, hands going straight for her hips to press her down more, and Darcy shamelessly rolled against the hard ridge throbbing against her cunt. He was hard, long and thick through the thin fabric of his pants, and she moaned as he guided her hips in a slow rock back and forth over his lap. She felt the telltale heat of a blush rising up her neck and cheeks, and he smiled as he followed the red down to her breasts, a deep red against the paleness of her skin. 

She was hyperaware of his stare, throwing her head back just to escape from it for a little while, and she gasped when he thrust up against her particularly hard, the pressure hitting her clit in just the right way as she let out a reedy little whine that made him clench her hips tighter. He paused for a split-second before thrusting up again into the same place, then again, and Darcy felt the wetness soaking her panties.

“Do you like that, little one?” he murmured, his breath ghosting the edge of her ear as her breath caught, both from the proximity of his mouth to her face and the fingers he was using to rub at her nipple. “Would you like me to touch you?”

“Yes,” she moaned, and he pulled the lace to the side to trace a finger through the slick that gathered in her cunt. She whimpered when he started rubbing slow circles into her clit, running the rest of his fingers along the slit of her pussy.

“Lovely,” he whispered, staring at her fluttering eyelids as he carried her higher, and higher. She didn’t even notice when he ripped her underwear, the sides tearing like mere paper – she was too focused on the way he leant down to capture a nipple in his mouth, nibbling and worrying the hard bud with his teeth as his other hand took care of the other.

“Please, please – ” she gasped, and felt him smile against her breast, his stubble scratching at the soft skin.

“Would you like to come, little one?” The fingers on her cunt rubbed just a tiny bit faster, but it wasn’t enough, and she grinded down hard on his fingers, gasping as the tip of a finger dipped into her.

“Yes, please, please!”

“I have one condition,” he rumbled, and she nodded frantically. “Scream my name.”

“Lord – ”

“Not that,” he cut her off, and she jerked as he tweaked a nipple. “ _Thor_.”

She couldn’t even protest before he sunk his fingers into her, two thick that made her sob in relief, babbling nonsense as she rocked against his hand, and true to his word he began pumping faster, his thumb drumming against her clit faster and faster until she was teetering on the edge, just barely there.

“Please let me come –  ” He began pulling out, the action ample warning as she cried out his name “Oh god, Thor, _please_ – !”

He curled his fingers up, pressing against the walls of her core, and she cried out, feeling her body fall against his chest as her core pulsed around his fingers, and –

“— Darcy!” Her eyes snapped open, jolting up in a tangle of sheets and blankets as Nicole stared at her, arms folded across her chest impatiently.

Her eyes landed on the open laptop at her side, left open on the application to Doctor Foster’s summer intern application, and when she looked up Darcy had to squint against the bright light of the desk lamp flooding her vision. “What – ?”

“You wanna get yourself off, do it on your own time, not when I’m trying to study for my finals.” Her roommate glared at her from across the tiny dorm room, before turning back to her desk, and Darcy blinked in bewilderment as the last bits of her dream faded, leaving her with an ache between her legs and her nipples tight and hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole smut thing is getting easier! ... I think.


	15. not-so secret (darcy x clark)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **office romance au** \+ superman crossover, darcy lewis x clark kent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fell asleep at my computer last night before posting this, and woke up late to boot, so I couldn't post until I got home from work :/ I'm making it up to you with two updates, and hopefully I'll get re-caught up by tomorrow! This past weekend was brutal >

“Miss Darcy?” Darcy blinked a little at the hand waving in front of her face. “Miss Darcy, are you alright?”

“W-what – ?” Her ears were ringing, and she was seeing double through her cracked glasses as she pushed herself up into a sitting position, coughing at the smoke that filled her lungs. She recognized the blur of color as Harold, the security guard who always greeted her with a cheery ‘good morning’ when she checked into the Daily Planet offices for her admittedly shitty journalism internship. “What’s going on?”

“You gotta run, Miss Lewis.” Her vision started to focus, and Harold pulled her up as gently as he could manage – the man was pushing sixty, and was as skinny as a telephone pole, but his grip was surprisingly strong as he led her through the smoking wreckage of the lobby. “Come on, little lady, use those feet.”

She stumbled as they hurried outside, the street a chaotic mess of police cars, ambulances, and frantic staff workers from the building. The flashing lights and endless faces merged into a blur of screaming and wailing sirens, but soon she found herself being hugged tightly by small arms.

“Darcy!” Lois squeezed tightly, her body sagging against Darcy’s in relief. “Oh, thank god, thank god, thank god – ”

“… Lois?” Darcy winced at the tight hold. “Lois, what – ”

“Where on earth have you been?” Lois pulled back, shaking Darcy by the shoulders roughly. “Perry took a headcount earlier, and nobody had seen you or Clark in hours and – ”

“Clark?” Darcy’s brain seemed to switch on at the mention of his name, and she froze. She remembered the way Clark had stilled, stopping in the middle of the busy lobby and then throwing himself on top of her, seconds before the fire blast of the bomb had ripped through the lobby. She had hit her head on the marble floor, and her head spun as she blacked out the sight of him sprawled out next to her, unmoving.

“He pushed me down and out of the way.” Darcy’s gaze snapped back to Lois, whose expression was twisted into something filled with fear. She turned to Harold and pleaded, “Did you – ?”

“I didn’t see anyone else but you, Miss Darcy.” The elderly man’s face was distraught. “Mister Clark wasn’t there.”

“No one has seen him since he left to pick up lunch, Darcy.” Her eyes turned back to the flames that were consuming the lower floors of the Daily Planet, the brick façade falling to pieces from the explosions. Lois’s eyes were filled with worry, her gaze fixed on the burning building. “And if you saw him in the lobby, then…" 

Darcy swallowed, her pulse echoing in her ears as her mind filled itself with images that made her want to throw up. Clark, lying in the burning wreckage, skin charred black. Clark, eyes staring lifelessly into nothing as his body lay in a pool of blood. Clark, a leg trapped under a piece of heavy concrete, calling for help with no one to hear him.

“He’s still inside,” Darcy choked out, and she didn’t even think before ripping herself away from Lois’s grasp, pushing past the policemen holding back the crowd and sprinting back to the building, ignoring the yells that followed her. She skidded to a stop in the lobby, eyes scanning the burning debris for any sign of him, but she wasn’t prepared for the ceiling to collapse above her, and her only warning was a groaning creak and a scream.

“Darcy!” Lois’s voice was cut off by a thunderous crack, and Darcy got her arms up just in time to protect her head as a rain of plaster and concrete engulfed her.

She felt herself get knocked down, hitting the floor on her side, and she couldn’t hold back the scream when a heavy steel bar landed hard on her calf, the bones cracking loudly on impact. Plaster dust and tiny bits of drywall floated in the air, creating a fog of white and gray that Darcy could barely see through, but she gritted her teeth as she tried freeing her leg from its place, wedged between the floor and the fallen structural beam.

A slow, ominous scraping sound drew her attention, and Darcy looked up to see at least three floors up, a gaping hole running through the concrete and steel. Darcy could see the way the floors drooped without the structural beams and columns supporting the concrete floor slabs, and her heart dropped when she saw a tipped over file cabinet inch forward towards the edge of the remaining floor, pulled by gravity.

“Oh god.” Darcy tried pushing the metal piece off her leg, using all the strength she could manage and bracing her good leg as leverage, but the piece didn’t move.  Tugging at her trapped calf experimentally, she held back her cry when the nerves in her leg began to scream at her.

Chancing a glance up again, her eyes widened. The file cabinet, torched black by one of the bomb explosions, had already started slipping over the edge, right over her head, and her efforts grew more and more frantic as the panic started to finally hit her.

“No, no, no, no!” Darcy watched in horror as the cabinet slid free, seeming to hover in the air for the slightest moment before beginning to tumble down the gaping void, flipping over and over itself like a somersaulting acrobat.

She squeezed her eyes shut, curling into a ball and covering her head with her hands and she prepared herself for the crushing pain, but when she heard a loud sound of rattling metal, then a loud crash. Darcy looked up, the tears in her eyes making the figure in front of her a mess of red and blue until she blinked away the moisture, and when she saw his worried face she threw her arms around him in utter relief.

“Oh god, Clark!” He seemed to stiffen under her touch, back rigidly straight as she sobbed into his chest, but her embrace was slowly reciprocated as he pulled her more tightly into his chest. “Oh thank god, you’re alive!”

He didn’t respond, his posture tensing at the name, and Darcy pulled back in confusion only to freeze.

Superman had burst onto the hero scene four years earlier, long before Darcy had even thought about journalism as a potential career, but it was the first time she’d ever seen him in person, not to mention up close. In the pictures, always blurry shots taken by cell phones or from video freeze frames, he cut an imposing figure in an armored blue bodysuit with a deep red cape that fastened at his wide shoulders, with a stylized ‘S’ stamped across his chest. Only, her brain wasn't making the connection as she realized that it was _Clark_ in the Superman suit. 

“What the hell?” she gaped, and Superman – no, Clark – winced, looking away from her incredulous expression to haul up the metal beam like it was made of Styrofoam, tossing it onto a pile of other debris.

“Surprise?” he said weakly, and Darcy’s head worked to wrap itself around the idea. _Clark **is** Superman_.

It explained a lot, if she was being honest with herself. She had made fast friends in Lois Lane and Clark Kent, the Daily Planet’s best muckraker reporters, by the end her second day interning at Metropolis’s most widely circulated newspaper, and within the first two weeks, she had developed a somewhat embarrassing crush on Clark. Lois thought it was adorable, the way Darcy stuttered and fell over herself every time he swung by her desk with some errands for her to do, but she kept getting mixed signals that seemed to see-saw from one end of the spectrum to the other.

On one hand, he’d strike up conversation with her, asking about her about things like if she had a good visit home, or if she liked that book he recommended, or if the stray cat she found was doing well. Those would segue into other topics, and those casual chats eventually began to end up lasting close to a half-hour, sometimes more, until Perry came by to yell at Clark to quit flirting and get back to work.

And then there were those other times, when they were in the middle of talking and he’d just interrupted with some lame sounding excuse that made her redneck Uncle Jimmy sound eloquent.

 _“I have to go... put out a fire.”_ The first time she hadn't even had time to process it before he was gone. She had brushed it off, and ignored the disappointment that welled up when he reacted stiffly to the joke she’d made about the lack of firefighters on duty. The next days were back to normal, but then it happened again, and again. There were ridiculous things like, _“There’s a plane crash I have to go take care of,”_  but also the generic avoidance tactics like _“I think there's someone calling me.”_ Soon, what was once an abrupt exit every week or so became more and more frequent, until it seemed like he was trying to project his disinterest in a polite yet painfully obvious way.

“You’re Superman,” Darcy breathed in disbelief, and Clark avoided her shocked gaze as he probed her leg lightly, his eyes narrowing as they glowed momentarily. 

“Your leg is broken in four places, but you should be fine,” he said quietly, and lifted her up bridal style, cradling her into his chest as he flew up and darted through a gaping hole in the side of the building.

“Clark, wait.” She came to her senses, tugging at the tight, armored cloth stretching across his chest. “Wait, stop – "

"You need medical attention, Darcy," he interrupted her, and she realized he was trying to avoid making eye contact. 

"Clark." She reached up to touch his cheek, gently turning his head until he looked into her eyes reluctantly. She saw the fear flicker through his eyes, and wondered what made him so scared. "How... how is this even…?”

“I'm not... I'm not from around here,” he admitted slowly, surprisingly quiet and hesitant. His arms tightened around her, and Darcy slowly understood as she watched his face close up at her continued silence. “You can't tell anyone, Darcy."

"I won’t," she said softly, and Clark nodded shortly, flying through a couple backalleys before stopping behind a cop car a little ways away and gently lowering her to the ground. He straightened, turning away to return to the fire, but Darcy caught a handful of his cape, tugging him back. 

His face was expressionless, blank as he stared down at her, and Darcy didn't even need to think as she leaned up and placed a kiss on his lips, before pulling back and smiling shyly at his stunned expression. 

"Maybe you're not from around here, but that doesn't mean you're not Clark Kent." Darcy squeezed his hand, her smile hopeful as he gaped down at her. "And I might be making an idiot of myself, but if you wanna come grab a bite to eat with me, I'll be at Dottie's Diner on Main around 6."

"I…" She swallowed her nervousness as she admitted, "I’d really like it if you came," giving him a final smile as he nodded in bewilderment, flying off with one last look at her. 

* * *

When she arrived at the diner later that night, she spotted Clark's broad-shouldered form in a window booth, a lone coffee sitting in front of him as he waited. Darcy looked at him nervously as she slid into the seat across from him, but Clark smiled back, reaching out to hold her hand as her mouth widened into a grin.


	16. drinking games (darcy x natasha)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **seven minutes in heaven au** \+ college au, darcy lewis x natasha romanoff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Marvel characters are all in college, the Avengers and company are in frats and sororities and clubs, and I'm still not too sure what kind of drinking game this is, only that it probably exists somewhere out there.

"Suck it, Lewis!" Tony crowed, as Darcy gasped down the last dregs of her beer, throwing the can to the ground and stomping on it before collapsing in a plastic chair.

“Seriously, Tony?” she croaked, coughing as the beer churned in her stomach. “Shotguns with Keystone? You couldn’t have gotten _anything_ else?”

Tony just grinned, all shark teeth as he began tossing out fresh cans, and Darcy groaned as he lobbed one in her direction. “Hell no,” she moaned, chucking it back and giggling at it nearly clocked him in the head.

Tony cast an appraising eye over her, sprawled in the lawn chair like a droopy starfish, and let out a piercing whistle. The laughter and talking stopped, dying down in a matter of seconds, and Darcy rolled her eyes. Steve might’ve been the president of Alpha Gamma Theta, but Tony was on another level entirely.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” He swept his arm out wide, beaming at the gathered crowd. “I need ten volunteers, ten lucky volunteers to fight for a special prize: seven minutes in heaven, with Kappa Gamma Phi’s very own Darcy Lewis!”

“… the fuck?” Darcy gaped as all eyes turned in her direction, squawking indignantly as arms began shooting up into the air, but Tony cheerfully started picking heads out of the crowd. “Tony, what the fuck, man!”

“You know house rules, Lewis.” Tony winked, and Darcy groaned. The stupid shotgun rule was the reason she normally avoided the chugging competition, but tonight she'd forgotten and fallen right into Tony's trap. “Shouldn’t have played with the big boys.”

“Fuck me,” she muttered, and eyed the lineup of guys standing around of the rickety ping-pong table Tony was using as a makeshift stage. She recognized a couple instantly – Rumlow, who kept smirking in her direction; to his left, Mack looked like he was more concerned about supporting a bright red Fitz, who looked like he was pass out at any second; even Ian Quinn from her Ethics class was there, talking shit to a irritated-looking Sunil Bakshi at his side.

Darcy blinked a little at the sight of Sam and Riley lining up side by side, the pair of them giving her twin winks, and it made her feel a little better when Steve and Bucky came up as well. She was well aware that both of the aeronautic engineers were in committed long-distance relationships, while Steve and Bucky just became a couple a few months ago – likely, they were trying to lessen her chances of getting stuck with a creep.

She did a mental count – nine. Tony’s wide smile promised nothing good as he pointed over the crowd, and Darcy wanted to run and hide when she saw who sidled up as the tenth volunteer.

Natasha Romanoff was the dance school’s star student; a trained dancer who made the switch over to modern dance and breakdancing after a shattered foot ended her ballet career. She was all long lines and feline grace, traits that carried over even when she wasn’t dancing, and Darcy had at school for all of three days before she had seen the redhead free-styling at the club faire held for freshman orientation. Redheads had always been a weakness for Darcy, but the whole dancer thing, plus the fact that the woman was fucking _gorgeous_ , was like icing on the proverbial cake. She’d never been subtle about her crush on Romanoff – Tony took special pleasure in teasing her about it – but now she wanted to dig a hole and bury her head in the ground.

Darcy ignored the little voice in her head that was hoping Natasha would win.

Tony placed two beer cans and a red plastic cup in front of each person, then pulling four bottles of moonshine from _out of fucking nowhere_ and splashing nearly half a bottle in every cup until all four were empy. Tapping on the glass handles, he cleared his throat. “Easy rules, gentlemen, and lady,” he nodded at Natasha. “No sabotage, no pussies, and no cheating. First one to finish all three gets a spin in heaven with Lewis.”

The crowd cheered, more for the contest itself than the idea of Darcy being a metaphorical prize, and Tony leaned over to pluck a bandana off a random kid’s head, ignoring his indignant, “hey!”

“You can get it back later,” he said dismissively, and held the cloth up high. “On your marks… get set…” He paused, glancing around with a smirk as he saw hands poised in position, and slashed the fabric through the air. “ _Go!”_

Sam and Riley were the closest to her, and the two of them were doing decently – they finished their first beers and had started on their second. Fitz was out, poor kid, and both his and Mack’s alcohol lay untouched as Mack tried shaking Fitz awake, and she was happy to see that Quinn was doing poorly, still on his first beer.

Steve, Bucky, Bakshi, and Rumlow were all tied neck to neck, nearing the end of the second beer now, but the chanting of the crowd drew her attention away.

“ _Romanoff! Romanoff!”_ The red cup was already flipped over, and from what it looked like Romanoff had finished it off first. Darcy’s eyes widened as she realized Natasha was on her last beer, her head tilted back to let the liquid slide down her throat uninterrupted, and when she calmly crushed the can in her hand, Darcy’s chest began to swell in a mixture of anticipation and dread.

“Winner: Natasha Romanoff!” Tony bellowed over the crowd, and Darcy swore her heart stopped breathing for a second as the redhead’s green eyes met her own. The moment was broken though, as hands yanked her up and began pushing her towards the creaky staircase, Romanoff already waiting at the top with a blank expression on her face, and before she knew it Darcy was shoved into what seemed like a coat closet, falling face first into a line of puffy down coats before she managed to stand upright.

“Ugh.” She tried squinting through the darkness, and slowly she could see Romanoff’s faint silhouette, highlighted by the light seeping through the cracks between the door and its frame. “Uh… hi?”

Romanoff chuckled, the laugh low and warm in a way that sent a twinge of something down Darcy’s spine. “Hello.”

“Sorry to get you into this,” Darcy laughed nervously, clearing her throat as she tried to think of what to say. “Uh, I’m Darcy, by the way, nice to meet you.” She held her hand out awkwardly, not really realizing that in the darkness the offer was practically invisible.

“Darcy Lewis, I know.” She felt like she could hear the smile in Romanoff’s voice, and Darcy jumped a little a cool palm slid into hers, and stayed there – Darcy wasn’t complaining, and smiled a little to herself. “Call me Natasha.”

They fell into silence, the back of Darcy’s neck breaking out into a sweat as she frantically tried to think of something to say. It felt like an eternity had passed, just standing there with their hands locked, until Darcy muttered “fuck it” and leaned forward with her lips puckered.

She landed somewhere on the dancer’s chin, between her jaw and her ear, but before Darcy could pull away in embarrassment Natasha reached up to cup her cheek, gently guiding their mouths together into a proper kiss. It was slow, and really nice – just a gentle inhale-exhale, with tentative touches of the tongue and soft, pillowy lips. Then, Natasha pulled a lip between her teeth, sucking on the plump flesh, and Darcy’s knees buckled a little as she inhaled sharply.

It was like an unspoken agreement, and within moments Darcy was pushed up against the wall, pinned in place by slim hips as small hands rubbed circles into her waist, the feeling making her moan. Darcy brought her arms up to wrap around Natasha’s shoulders, and melted into the kiss as Natasha scraped teeth over her lips and sucked on her tongue. There was a promise in the redhead’s mouth, unspoken but there nonetheless, and when fingers began to slip under Darcy’s shirt something in her shifted.

_No. Not like this._

Through the haze of lust and contentment, something in Darcy’s head clicked, and she pushed Natasha back, gasping as she tried to catch her breath. Leaning against the wall, she tried fighting off the fog in her brain, but Natasha’s quiet voice brought her out of her thoughts.

“Is something wrong?” She sounded the way she had looked earlier, blank-faced and stoic, a far cry from the gentle and warm demeanor from just a few minutes ago.

“No, no, I just… I just… ” Darcy swallowed, and as she spoke she wished she could see Natasha’s face. “I just can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

“… oh.” That simple word seemed to carry so much weight, and Darcy swore that maybe there was a note of disappointment, and she scrambled to clarify herself.

“Not, you know, because you’re a bad kisser or anything, because you’re fantastic. But…” Darcy felt her cheeks grow warm, and was glad for the cover of darkness. “Well, I admire you. And it’s not like I don’t want to kiss you, because I do, but I just… I don’t want to be just a hookup.”

“You aren’t.” Natasha’s reply was immediate, but before she could say more the door was yanked open, and Darcy turned to see around to see at least ten different faces, ranging from the main AGT guys and a few girls from her own sorority, including Skye and Jane.

“Well?” Tony was at the front, his arms crossed as his foot tapped impatiently.

“Shut up, Stark.” Natasha sighed, rolling her eyes and turning back to smile at Darcy, and Darcy’s heart flipped at the rare sight, directed towards her. “I don’t want you to be a hookup either. Go to dinner with me?”

* * *

There was a lot of hollering and hugging and even more drinking afterwards, but when Darcy woke up the next morning she didn’t remember much beyond that besides the way Natasha’s eyes had lit up when she said yes. Part of her was convinced it was a dream, but she perked up at the chime of an incoming text message.

 **Unknown Number** , 9:24AM  
Nebbia, 8 pm, semi-formal. I’ll pick you up. - NR

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still trying to play catch up, so comment replies are slow coming, but they will come! Promise!


	17. mistaken identity (darcy x peter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **noble/peasant au** \+ space royalty au, darcy lewis x peter quill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, Darcy is a noblewoman of circumstance, and Peter Quill isn't really a peasant, but more along the lines of a bandit/scavenger.

Darcy shifted restlessly in the plush chair, looking around uncomfortably as she watched the crew hurry in and out of the deck of the ship, speaking urgently with one another and scurrying like panicked mice. She had been told by the captain to stay put after she’d asked one too many curious questions, like a misbehaving child placed on a time-out, and she didn’t bother hiding her scowl.

She hated intergalactic travel. The Bifrost was all well and good, like a sort of super portal between Earth and Asgard, but nobody had bothered to tell her that it was sort of reserved for important occasions, like for diplomatic visits or to send soldiers off to war. And so Darcy was introduced to the wonder – read, sheer monotony – that was space travel. After the first few days of wonder, everything settled into a repeated routine of canned rations, endless card games, and listening to her playlists on repeat as she stared at the ceiling above her bunk.

Of course, with Jane as Thor’s new bride-to-be, Darcy’s role as intern was misconstrued as a handmaiden, or some kind of lady-in-waiting, and she found herself in the awkward position of being some kind of freaking noblewoman, at least on Asgard. On earth she was still plain old Darcy Lewis, the poli-sci major who _finally_ graduated, but up in Asgard she had to sit around with all those other court ladies and pretend to be some highborn lady in the midst of some pretty heavy drama. It was like some immortal, Aesir version of Mean Girls, only queen bee Frigga wasn’t an evil bitch and Jane was a badass that conformed to nobody’s standards.

One of the side effects of her sudden rise in status was being upgraded to having her own private spaceship – way cooler than a stupid jet, and she had over ten thousand likes on that one Instagram picture to prove it – to cart her across the galaxies at her heart’s content, but with most of the return crew being Asgardians with little understanding of her cynical humor and intense love of Jon Stewart, it got lonely.

She raised an eyebrow as the captain – who had flat out told her that he’d rather her just call him Captain than butcher his name _one more time_ – as he muttered what sounded like a curse under his breath, and when he cursed again she couldn’t help herself.

“Yo, Cap!” He looked up, his brow furrowing slightly in irritation as his gaze landed on Darcy’s inquisitive stare, but she didn’t miss the frustration and fear that flickered in his expression before he hid it away. “What’s the problem?”

He looked like he wanted to ignore her, but eventually he pointed at the radar screen, and Darcy leaned over to see a little tiny dot at the edge of the display, quickly inching forward towards the center. “There’s bandits tailing us,” he said, looking down in concern. “Could be brigands or privateers, or could just be petty thieves – their ship’s a Firefly model though, good for hauling cargo.”

“Can’t we outrun them?”

Captain shook his head. “We’d burn out before we reach the closest refueling station, and they might just decide to follow us there. They’re about the same size as us, so we’re letting them burn up their supplies before we book it.”

There was the sound of a loud thunk, followed at least three or four more, and one of the cadets turned to the Captain with worry in his face. “Sir, they’ve latched onto us; entries are linked and oxygen levels are equalized, pressurized air lock suction. They’re… requesting permission, for lack of a better term. To board.” 

“Or not.” The captain scrubbed at his face. "Any visuals?”

Another intern pulled up the exterior security feed, throwing it up onto a projection screen, and Darcy blinked. Most of the video was obscured by what looked like a giant, tree, along with a freaking raccoon, of all things, who was toting around a huge gun slung over his back and waving a slightly smaller gun at the door threateningly.

There was a dude who was shirtless, blue-grey skin with intricate red markings running across his skin, and he looked the most calm so far – he was a marked opposite of the raccoon and at his side was a green-skinned woman that made the captain swear loudly.

“ _Gamora_ ,” he hissed, starting as the woman looked up right into the camera. “Scavengers and bandits.” Darcy watched as the last figure, in a red coat and wearing an intense looking mask, plugged a set of wires into the access panel next to the door. The raccoon stepped forward, and Darcy didn’t know if it was inappropriate to be impressed as it looked like he was hacking the security systems.

There was only the panicked warning of a cadet – “They’ve bypassed our security codes, sir!” – before the display went fuzzy, the white noise filling the room as Captain barked orders. Darcy could only shrink out of the way as she was nearly knocked over by a wild-eyed guard, hurrying towards the breached entrance, but as she was making her way back to her rooms a hand clamped over her mouth tightly, hiding her muffled yells as she was bodily dragged into an empty hallway.

“No sudden moves, lady,” a playful voice murmured in her ear. She froze, the voice trailing down her spine like honey, settling low in her stomach. It was only then that she registered the hard chest pressing into her back, her ass fitting between her kidnapper’s legs snugly.

Darcy shook her head, dispelling the thoughts – it _had_ been a while, but following those thoughts was like jumping on the crazy train, directly to desperate-ville. And it was probably for the best; she could feel the creeper’s head peering over her shoulder, peeking down at her open cleavage as the arm clamped under her bust pushed her breasts out even more.

Seeing as her kidnapper was clearly not expecting her to do much besides stay quiet like a good little victim, Darcy decided that the most prudent course of action would be to do the exact opposite, and swung her elbow back as hard as she could.

“Oomph – !” The grip on her mouth loosened, and she used the space to give herself some room as she spun on her heel, stomping down on the man’s instep and giving him a sharp uppercut to the nose, before she jerked a knee up directly into his groin.

“Holy fuck – _ing hell!_ ” The man’s voice rose a couple octaves as he sunk into a pained crouch, but Darcy didn’t wait around for him to get up as she started off down the corridor.

“Thank you, Sandra Bullock,” Darcy muttered, with every intention of high-tailing it out of there, but in her haste she didn’t see the figure blocking the doorway until she smacked face-first into what felt like a tree.

“I am Groot.” Darcy looked up dizzily to see the tree dude, looking down at her in curiosity, and she blinked back.

“I am Darcy?” She squeaked a little when vines and branches wrapped around her bringing her up to eye level with the tree dude’s face, but then blinked in surprise as he – he, she, it? Pronouns didn’t normally apply to trees – wove a crown of white flowers before her very eyes, placing it on her head with a happy smile.

“I am Groot!” Tree dude smiled, and Darcy melted a little inside as he lowered her to the ground gently, patting her head as she adjusted the flower crown from falling into her eyes.

“Uh, thanks, dude.” Darcy gave him a thumbs-up, and was amused to see the tree dude copy her with a sort of childish curiosity.

“That wasn’t nice,” a voice gasped from behind her, and she whirled around to see the creeper from earlier leaning against the wall for support, one hand bracing himself while the other fluttered between his face, stomach, and crotch – as if he was trying to choose which one hurt the most.

“Dude, you were breathing in my ear like some psychotic stalker,” Darcy said flatly. “ _And_ you broke into my ship. I’m not feeling nice.”

“I am Groot.” She might’ve been imagining the chastising tone, but the tree dude’s expression looked like he was scolding the guy.

Creeper scowled, pressing a button on the helmet-mask thingy he was still wearing, and Darcy was surprised to see a scruffy, good-looking dude as the helmet retracted. Hell, he looked normal enough to be a human like her, but with this being space and all, she wasn’t too sure.

“Shut up, Groot,” the guy scowled, and upon spotting the flower crown sitting on Darcy’s head he groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Groot, we talked about this. You can’t just go around giving flowers to every pretty girl you meet, she’s one of Rancor’s lieutenants – ”

“Ran-who?” Darcy cocked her head to the side in confusion, but the guy rolled his eyes.

“I might’ve underestimated you, but I’m not an idiot,” he said dryly, and Groot mumbled a sound of apology as vine began to wrap around her form. “Ruin, right? Or that’s what Rancor called you.”

“Uh, no.” Darcy glared at the man as the flower crown slid down to cover one eye awkwardly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, dude.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Right. Sure.” Creeper waved at Groot, gesturing for the tree dude to go first, but Darcy was getting decidedly more and more uncomfortable as she hung in the air, and glared at the man.

“I don’t know what kind of idiot you are, but I’m not Ruin, or whoever it is you’re looking for.” Darcy wiggled until she could slip two fingers into her pocket, digging out her iPod Touch and awkwardly tossing it at him. She sighed in relief when he caught it, but rolled her eyes when he dangled it between his thumb and index finger like it was some kind of bomb.

“Press the round button.” He did, fumbling with the device as it lit up, but when he looked at the little screen he paled a little.

“You know Thor?” He looked up at her. “Who are you?”

“Darcy Lewis, Baroness of the Lowlands of Asgard.” Darcy’s mouth was twisted into a shark’s grin. “Shield-sister of Prince Thor, and handmaiden to his consort, Jane Foster.”

“… Fuck.” Groot lowered her to the ground, helpfully readjusting her flower crown, and the guy rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I suppose this would be a good time to say ‘my bad?’ ”

“Probably.” Darcy squinted a little. “Who are you again?”

“Peter Quill, but you might know me as Starlord.” At her blank expression, he closed his eyes dejectedly, moaning, “ _Why_ does this keep happening to me?”

“Starlord. Ooo-kay.” Darcy wondered if she should call for some of the guards at this point, and honestly it was slightly ridiculous that nobody else had come by yet, but the moment that thought crossed her mind the raccoon, blue-dude and the one Captain called Gamora rounded the corner.

“We’re on the wrong ship,” Quill, or Starlord, or whatever he wanted to be called, rubbed his head sheepishly as Gamora eyed Darcy warily. “She’s some Asgardian noble, not Ruin – Rocket, I thought you said this was the ship?” Blue-dude frowned at the flower crown perched on her head, and the raccoon had face-palmed, muttering something about Groot and pretty girls.

“I needed a Celestial generator replacement, but this baby’s an oldie – still uses nuclear generators..” The raccoon, apparently called Rocket, shrugged. “And besides, I thought it’d be funny.”

“She punched me in the stomach and the nose, kicked me in the foot, and kneed me in the balls.” Gamora and blue-guy turned to her in surprise, and Darcy shrugged. “Tell me how that’s funny.”

“You kidding me? That’s hilarious!” Rocket began laughing hysterically as Quill gaped, and Darcy snorted.

“Not that you aren’t all fascinating people, but I have somewhere I have to be.” Darcy looked pointedly around. “So if you guys are good and aren’t taking anything, can you guys go now?”

“We apologize for the inconvenience,” Gamora said civilly, nodding shortly as blue-guy gave her one last long stare. Turning to the others, she said, “Drax and I will meet you in the ship,” before she and blue-guy wandered off and disappeared through an open hallway.

“C’mon, Groot,” Rocket muttered, and Darcy watched with fascination as he trotted off after Gamora and Drax, fiddling with the insides of his gun as he walked, muttering to himself.

“I am Groot.” Tree dude sounded sad, and Darcy couldn’t help but pat his branch-arm gently, plucking a flower from the crown on her head and kissing it before offering it back to Groot. Tree dude chirped happily, sticking said flower atop his head, patting her on the head once more before lumbering off after Rocket.

“Hey, don’t I get one?”

Darcy raised an eyebrow at Quill’s suave smirk. “You don’t deserve one.”

“Pity.” She started when she realized that he was fiddling with her iPod, grinning all the while. “I’ll just take this instead, then.”

“Take that and I’ll track your ass to the ends of the galaxy just so I can kill you,” she growled, but each step she took forward made him step back, closer and closer to the exit.

“Get in line; pretty sure Rocket, Gamora and Drax are first.” He shrugged. “Well, maybe Yondu, and Thanos, and the Rangers, and Tivaan maybe, and probably that – ”

She pounced, eyes fixated on her iPod, but even though she landed hard against his chest he caught her wrists, and with some fumbling managed to hold both with a single hand.

“Look at it this way, Princess,” he said cheekily, grinning down at her. “It gives me an excuse to come find you again – I’ve always had a thing for violent women.”  
  
He leant down, giving her a quick peck on the lips before shoving her hard in the other direction, using her distraction to run off as Darcy stared after him in a mix of rage and incredulousness.

* * *

When Darcy landed on Earth three weeks later, the first thing she did was to go out and buy a taser. She made a promise to herself: the first person to take it out for a test drive would be one Peter Quill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be some kind of medieval space royalty au, but my head decided to add Star Trek and Firefly into the mix.


	18. birds of a feather (darcy x skye)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **orphan au** \+ inhumans au, darcy lewis x skye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after the winter finale of AoS S2 -- I've finally caught up! 
> 
> I don't think Inhuman!Darcy has been done yet, so I'm giving it a go.

Darcy glanced down at her phone as it vibrated against her desk, brow furrowing as she didn’t recognize the number.

“Hey Jane, I’m taking a call!” Jane waved her hand impatiently, eyes glued to her computer screen, and Darcy slipped into the hall as she answered the call.

“You’ve reached Darcy Lewis, scientist-wrangler extraordinaire, how may I help you?”

“I thought I trained you out of that seven years ago.” 

Darcy stopped short, pulling the phone away to look at it in disbelief. “ _May_?”  

“Nice to hear from you too,” May said dryly, but Darcy could hear the undercurrent of tension in her voice. “I need your help.”

“You know I’m not part of SHIELD anymore, right?” She leaned back against the cool glass, stealing a glance back at Jane as her suspicions rose. “Speaking of which, is supposed to be dead and gone.”

“You really believe that?”

“Not for a goddamn second.” Darcy exhaled slowly. “What’s the problem?”

She could hear May shift uneasily. “Do you remember what happened when you were young?”

Darcy swallowed. “You mean the accident, or the incident?"

“Both.”

Darcy sunk to the floor, curling into herself as she tried breathing through the memories that flooded her brain.  

Her childhood had been spent hopping around the globe, trailing after her archeologist parents from dig site to dig site. When she was ten, she had fallen into a cavern while wandering during a dig in Ethiopia and landed in a light-filled tomb, next to a metal sculpture on a pedestal that opened and released a gas that caused rock to grow over her body.

She remembered indescribable pain, before the shell exploded and she was knocked out, only to wake up to a pitch-black doppelganger staring down at her with cruel yellow eyes, cackling before vanishing into darkness. When her parents finally found her, the metal sculpture was gone, and Darcy was never the same. 

Darcy told them about the mist and the rock and the pain, but her own fears kept her silent about the shade that laughed at her and dogged her footsteps in both reality and her dreams. She heard their whispers – of mutants, of some kind of evil magic, or witchcraft – and it became the first out of many things they would start fighting about, but in the end, they kept quiet and told Darcy to do the same.

The shade hadn't returned, but shadows followed Darcy like moths to a light. They reached out to her, nipping at her heels as she walked by, and at night they curled around her, purring like cats as they snuggled into her.

At first she had shied away, but the shadows started helping her with chores, tidying her room when she was gone – even reenacting the scenes in her books in nonsensical sounds as she read. She spent long months trying to ignore them, hissing at them when they came too close, but they persisted – and Darcy had slowly, reluctantly, started to see them as friends.

And then, the accident happened, the shade came back, and –

“I remember,” she whispered. “The mist, and…" 

“Yes.” May’s voice was gentler. “It happened again.”

Darcy straightened. “What?” she asked sharply. “Who?”

“An agent on our called Skye.” May sounded worried, which wasn’t a good sign. “She can’t be on land, otherwise she causes earthquakes.”

“She has to learn to control it.” Darcy blinked a little, staring up at the ceiling. “You know what I did.”

“She won’t listen to me – and the moment we get her on land none of us are capable of putting her down if things get ugly.” May sounded frustrated. “But I’m hoping she’ll listen to you.”

Darcy weighed her options, worrying her lips in her teeth.

“Please, Darcy.”

She let her eyes fall closed, and sighed. “Where are you picking me up?”

* * *

The first thing that popped out of her mouth was, "You're supposed to be dead."

Phil Coulson, standing with three other agents, smiled serenely. "Rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated." At his side, May rolled her eyes, stepping forward and drawing Darcy forward into a tight hug. Darcy burrowed her head into May’s shoulder, breathing in the familiar smell of gunpowder, sweat, and linen.

“You haven’t aged a day.” Darcy drew back, and May returned her smile with a chuckle.

“And you’ve let yourself go.” May pinched her side, and Darcy yelped, but not before a shadowy tendril snaked around May’s ankle and yanked her upside down in the air.

Darcy paid no attention to the way the other two agents aimed their guns at her, nor the way Coulson tensed, and instead grinned as May did a crunch up to her ankles to tickle the shadow that held her.

“This is the one May trained?” The short brunette man, British by his accent, stared, as the shadow seemed to embrace May before lowering the woman back to the ground feet-first. “She looks like one of those New York hipsters I keep hearing about, not May's protégé." 

“Well, fuck you, too.” Darcy muttered, raising a challenging eyebrow and earning herself a dirty glare from the man as the tall blonde woman snorted.

“Don’t antagonize my agents, Lewis,” Coulson said tiredly, rubbing at his eyes.

“Tell him to keep his claws to himself and we’re good.” She cocked her head to the side slightly, studying him. “Neutering works well too. Gets rid of all that testosterone.”

The man sputtered, and the blonde lady started to howl in laughter, elbowing the man as she smirked, “I like her.” 

“Well, I don’t.” The man muttered, “Why do we need her again?” Darcy’s reply was the warning yank of his belt by the man’s own shadow.

“So? Where is she?”

* * *

“Whoa.” The girl’s head snapped up, her eyes widening as she stumbled into a vaguely defensive stance, the strength of the position weakened by the violent trembling of her arms. “May never said you were hot.”

“ _Excuse me_?” There was a bite of sarcasm in the incredulous tone, just for a moment until her voice cracked at the end, and Darcy saw a glimmer of the girl’s personality before it was buried under the fear and terror. Darcy took a step forward carefully, and the girl stumbled back, the force of her hitting the wall making the walls shake and roll. “You can’t be in here, I’m not safe!”

“Hey, hey, easy…” Darcy backed away, hands in the air. She took a seat on the chair near the door, putting the infirmary cot between her and the girl. “Look, Skye, right? I just want to talk – ”

Distrust shone in her eyes. “Who are you?”

“My name is Darcy.” She gave a little wave. “Once upon a time, May was my SO.”

“You’re SHIELD?” What little hostility was there seemed to drain out of the girl’s shoulders in relief, leaving just a sense of exhaustion that made Darcy soften just a little.

“Was.” Darcy smiled wryly. “She tell you about Bahrain?”

“You were there?” The curiosity made Skye open up a little, and Darcy leaned back into her chair, sighing.

“I was undercover, playing the civilian girl inside.” Darcy’s smile turned a little hard. “She fought from the outside in, and I fought from the inside out – only she stayed in SHIELD to become the Cavalry, and I left because no one would look at me the same way.”

“ _‘The agent that drowned the enemy in darkness.’_ ” Darcy could practically see the cogs turning as Skye’s eyes widened. “You’re _Erebus_. I thought FitzSimmons made you up!”

“The Greek god of darkness?” Darcy sighed. “Well, it’s better than being called Shadowcat, that girl would kill me for taking her codename.”

“You know the X-men?” There was a glint of awe in the girl’s eyes, and Darcy watched, as the trembling seemed to slow down.

“Yeah, the Professor X is great.” Darcy smiled a little at Skye’s enthusiasm as she perked up at the name. “He could help you too, you know. To control your powers.”

“I can’t.” It was like a light had burned out, and Skye’s demeanor went back to being terrified as she curled in on herself, cowering in the corner of the room. “I don’t want them, I can’t – I can’t hurt anyone again. Not – not after – ” There was self-loathing and guilt in the girl’s eyes, and suddenly Darcy understood.

“Someone died. And you believe it’s your fault.” Skye froze, and Darcy knew she had hit it on the head. “When it opened and the mist came out and you felt like you were being burned alive inside a rock shell – ”

“You know.” Skye looked like she had seen a ghost, the color leeching out of her face as she stared at Darcy. “How do you know?”

“Because I went through it too.” Darcy’s eyes dropped to the Skye’s shadow, cast across the floor, and when Skye’s eyes followed Darcy drew it upwards until it was a thin tendril, a wisp of dark smoke floating in the air until it curled around Darcy’s outstretched hand, dancing up and down her arm. She waited until Skye dragged her eyes up to meet Darcy’s gaze. “Because I’m like you.”

Skye was silent, her lips trembling as they fixed themselves on the shadow still jumping and twirling around Darcy’s shoulders. “Who was it?” she whispered, and Darcy had to strain to hear her. “Who…?”

Darcy smiled sadly. “My parents.”

Skye inhaled sharply. “…How?”

_It was a worse argument than usual – normally, her parents would wait until she was in bed to start bickering, but that day they had started on each other at the dinner table, screaming and shouting as Darcy sat between them poking at her cooling plate of mashed potatoes and carrots and roast chicken. It escalated faster than usual too – her mom tossed the contents of her wine glass at her dad, and her dad swiped half the dishes off the table in a fit of anger, and they were this close from each other when her dad smacked her mom across the face, sending her sprawling._

_Darcy was frozen, stunned as her mom looked furious from her place on the floor, and Darcy saw her mom pick up the carving knife from the floor and jump at her dad in a rage. She screamed, both out loud and in her head as she squeezed her eyes shut as hard as she could._

**_Stop, stop, stop!_ **

_The shadows came hard and fast, leaping out of the dark and wrapping around both her parents’ bodies like chains, pulling them apart and throwing them into opposite walls. It took a few moments to process what she had done, but by the time she realized her parents weren’t getting up it was already too late._

_Her mom had broken her neck on impact, crumpling to the ground like a discarded marionette. Her dad had suffered a hemorrhage, blood leaking out of his ears, nose, and mouth as his brain literally shut down._

_"Mom?" She shook her mom's arm, tears blurring her eyes. "Dad?"_

_The shadows flickered on the walls, taking the shapes of her parents and shifting into dancing animals and puppets, and it made Darcy angry._

_"You killed them!" she screamed, tears blurring her eyes. "You killed them!"_

_The shadows melted off the walls, pooling in a puddle of ink on the floor before rising up and taking the shape of a person, only still dark as night. Darcy was horrified when she realized that it was her – mirrored exactly, down to the tears streaming down her cheeks._

_"Me? I'm **you** , Darcy Lewis," the shade laughed, Darcy's own voice ringing out of the doppelganger's mouth as it melted away, slinking back into the shadows of the night. "And  **you** killed them."_

“You didn’t know,” Skye said softly, and Darcy shook her head ruefully.

“I was twelve. I thought this – ” she nodded at the shadow bouncing in her lap, “ – this was a toy, that this was… harmless. But I have to live with the fact that they died because of me.” Darcy swallowed. “Because I didn’t know that not being in control meant that something else was there to guide it. To make it do things that I couldn’t… that I wouldn’t do.”

Skye exhaled softly. “The shade.”  

“You know how people tell you, don’t let your fear control you?” Darcy smiled tiredly. “The shade was my fear – it was shock, and panic, and terror, personified in the person I was scared to become. And I ignored it, thinking it would go away – I never saw the shadows as a part of me, more like things that were just … there, things that would eventually go away… but they didn’t. And my parents died because I chose to be ignorant and bury my head in the sand, instead of accepting the fact that I wasn’t the same person I was, before falling into that cavern.”

“Agent Triplett didn’t die because of you.” Skye flinched and Darcy thought back to what May had told her as she said, “He died for you – protecting you, so you could live.”

Darcy gently stood, moving forward as Skye tensed and pressed herself into the wall, but couldn’t help her fascination when Darcy reached out to offer back Skye’s shadow, twisting and curling in her palm. The girl reached out with a shaking hand, and the shadow seemed to let itself be pulled in, pouring itself onto Skye’s skin and falling down her body until it was a dark spot under her feet, fanning out across the white tile floor.

“Don’t let your fears control you, Skye.” Darcy reached out and caught her hand, and Skye took a shuddering breath and she clutched at Darcy’s arm. “Don’t let your father control you.”

The grip on Darcy’s arm tightened, and Darcy winced as Skye said through clenched teeth, “ _He_ doesn’t control me.”

“You’re scared of becoming like him.” Skye jerked back, but Darcy held on, squeezing her hand tightly. “You’re scared that he’s right – that your team’s going to abandon you, and all you’ll have left is him.”

Skye stared at her in shock. “H-how do you…?”

“Your shadow told me.”

There was a beat of silence. “What if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not.” Darcy smiled reassuringly, and pulled her into a hug. Skye struggled, fighting against Darcy’s embrace as the walls began to shake again, but Darcy held fast until Skye collapsed boneless, her tremors dissolving into sobs. “You won’t make the same mistakes I did, Skye, because you’ll have them. And you’ll have me.”

As Skye clutched at he jacket, Darcy looked over at the room’s little window, where May, Coulson, and the other two agents were standing. Coulson nodded, his eyes suspiciously shiny as he stared at Skye, and May mouthed something through the glass that made Darcy smile gently.

_Thank you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are getting longer and longer as this challenge goes on >.>
> 
> I'm hoping that I never make it past the 3K word mark since I'm already falling behind, but with the way its going that's probably wishful thinking :/


	19. lovesick (darcy x edwin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **vampire au** \+ misunderstandings in love au, darcy lewis x edwin jarvis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Darcy is a 300 year old vampire who falls in love with an awkward British army officer, and their story is super cheesy and cliche but it all works out in the end.
> 
> Just to clarify, this is the actual, living and breathing Edwin Jarvis, not the AI JARVIS that Tony creates. Also, this will not have any descriptions of Darcy sparkling in the sun, having superhuman abilities, or wrestling with wild mountain lions.

She’s had over a hundred names, variants on her original one to make remembering her backstory simpler, but for the first time in a while she was back to her true name, the one she was given when she was born in a little barn in the countryside of Wales, to one James and Cecilia Lewis of Glamorganshire. Her birth name of Darcy Lewis was still the one she preferred out of all the others she had used, but when a girl was pushing three hundred, changing names was more of a necessity than anything else.

Some lives were better than others – after being changed, and then killing her maker as she woke from the bloodthirst that plagued her, her first few lives were spent making every stupid mistake under the sun, learning to survive the hard way as she often had to run away in the dead of night to escape the mobs that cried out for the death of a witch. But as time went on, things got better – she was smarter, she was more careful, and things became fun for the first time as she threw herself into the wind and followed adventure where it took her. She fought in wars and dined with kings, sailed with pirates and traversed across deserts on the back of a camel – and it wasn’t until she met a young British soldier stationed in Hungary in 1939, that she felt the urge for something more than the adrenaline-filled lives she’d been living.

His name was Edwin – such a properly British name that it made her giggle when he had introduced himself to her alias at the time: a cheeky, cheerful girl by the name Anna Lesznai working in a hotel tailor shop as she dreamt of being a writer.

He was tall and handsome; young, with the intensely focused face of a more worldly man, and it made her heart flip in ways that it hadn’t before. _“Might I ask your name?”_ he had said, eyes intent on her as his fingers brushed across her hand in an intimate gesture that left Darcy breathless.

 _“Anna,”_ she murmured softly, and a faint blush rose on her cheeks as he smiled at her. _“My name is Anna.”_

He reached out and boldly took her hand in his, and the feel of his skin against hers was like the slow-burning warmth of whiskey, rich and promising. _“Miss Anna, would you do me the honor of accompanying me to dinner tonight?”_

One dinner became two, and two became three – and soon, Darcy began waking up in the mornings looking most forward to seeing him, and when he visited her at the shop or came to pick her up from home, it sent her heartbeat fluttering – like a staccato that kept going faster and faster until all she could hear was a low hum as he kissed her for the very first time nearly five months after they had first met, cupping her face and drawing her close.

If she had to choose, it was that moment when she fell in love with him.

* * *

The war that would become known as World War II was slow to hit her little town in rural Hungary, but when Hungary joined the Axis powers and German soldiers began knocking on house doors, she knew it was time to pack up and leave.

Only, Edwin was still there.

 _“My commanding officer can write a letter for you,”_ he said, holding her hand in worry one night after he heard about the Germans starting their march through Eastern Europe, rounding up Jews. _“I can get him to sign it. I know I can.”_

 _“Worry for yourself, Edwin, not me.”_ She had smiled at the concern on his face, and something swelled in her heart as Darcy prepared herself to leave Anna Lesznai and her admirer behind, stealing away through the countryside until she hit France, then making her way to a new ‘life’ in America.

Thinking of it hurt more than she thought it would. _“I’ll be alright.”_

And she would’ve been, only Edwin – brave, sweet, _thoughtful_ Edwin – showed up the night before she was going to leave, breathless as he held a letter in his hand and his army bag in the other.

“ _I got it,”_ he panted, and she was a little concerned at the undertone of panic and urgency in his tone as he tried to smile. “ _Hurry, Anna_.”

Before she knew it, they were both sitting on a plane bound for London, with an angry British general who apparently did not in fact sign a letter for her. Edwin did. 

The fact that he risked everything to get her out of harm’s way was somewhat of an old-fashioned notion, a rescue-the-damsel-in-distress move that she normally rolled her eyes at, but it made her heart glow a little brighter in love, and Darcy had wrapped her hand in his for the duration of the entire plane ride across the European continent.

* * *

Howard Stark had managed to pull strings for Edwin, getting him a dishonorable discharge instead of being put to trial as a traitor to the English crown, and brought both Edwin and his lady love over to America, expediting the process and having them settled in the Stark mansion. Within a week their arrival, they married at city hall – Darcy in a borrowed white dress from one of Howard’s current paramours and Edwin in a three-piece tweed suit – but it was still one of the best days of her entire life.

Returning to America was interesting. It was very different from when she had left it back in the early 1800s, but she found that finding blood sources in New York City was far more difficult than hunting for animals in the Hungarian woods. Darcy had to relearn the game, changing the way she hunted by becoming a nurse – the access to blood was far easier and cleaner, and despite the fact that blood bags always had a somewhat unpleasant stale taste it was better than feeding on the homeless that had begun littering the city streets as soldiers began coming home from war.

Edwin had opted to stay on as Howard’s full time butler, and she knew better than to ask about the nature of the work he did. Howard loved his secrets just about as much as he loved his inventions, and it wasn’t like Edwin wasn’t coming home at night.

Until, very soon, he wasn’t.

 _“Are you awake?”_ Darcy felt Edwin press a gentle kiss to her temple as she feigned sleep. _“Anna?”_

When she didn’t move, she felt him slip out of bed, stripping out of his pajamas quietly before dressing and slipping out the door. She got out of bed long enough to see the tail lamps of Howard’s car disappear into the dark street, and it hurt as she realized what was happening.

 _“If you want me to leave, I’ll go.”_ Edwin paused in the middle of carving the roast beef he had prepared that night, looking up at her with a frown. 

_“I’m sorry, what did you say?”_

She swallowed, looking at the plate of meat he had cut for her – rare, just the way he knew she liked it, as he took the end pieces that were a little more well done. Her heart broke a little, and Darcy heard him inhale sharply at the tears that started to roll down her cheeks.

He nearly ran around the table, reaching for her and flinching when she shied away. “ _Darling_ – “

“ _I love you_.” She stood up, dodging as he tried to take her hand, and smiled shakily through her tears. _“But I can’t stay and watch you leave every night, wondering if it’s because I haven’t loved you enough.”_

He looked stricken, his hands still outstretched as he stared at her. _“What?”_

The phone rang, and when she saw the way his head snapped towards the parlor she bit her lips. _“You have a call, Edwin. You shouldn’t miss it.”_

He disappeared again that night, and the next day she packed away all her clothes and sent them to a hotel downtown. She waited outside, peering in when she spotted him strolling down the driveway towards their little apartment, and she resisted the urge to stay. 

Darcy watched as he let himself inside, wandering to their bedroom until he saw her wedding ring, left on the bedside table with a note. She had to bite back her tears as his face crumpled, sinking to his knees as he read her letter, and when he held her ring tightly in his hand, bringing it up to his lips as he brokenly murmured apologies, she ran back to the car waiting at the end of the street, not bothering to hide her tears as she boarded a train at Grand Central and headed west.

* * *

 _“You’re a hard woman to find, Miss Anna.”_ Darcy looked up from her desk, and was stunned to see Howard Stark standing in front of her, hands on his hips as he stared at her with a frown.

 _“Mr. Stark?”_ She blinked, and trying not to think of Edwin was harder than ever. _“What are you doing here?”_

 _“Clarifying a misunderstanding,”_ he said, dropping into one of the chairs in her little office, and she hurried to close the door as more and more of the other nurses started to poke their heads in to catch a glimpse of the infamous Howard Stark.

 _“Oh?”_ She puttered helplessly at the little electric kettle she had sitting on a side table, making two cups of tea with one last, sad teabag hiding at the bottom of the tin. Howard politely took a sip, and made a face before dumping half the cup and filling the empty space with cream and sugar.

 _“I’m afraid I’m utterly helpless at making decent tea,”_ she said, and before she could stop herself it slipped out. _“Edwin was always better at that sort of thing…"_  

 _“See, that’s why I’m here, Miss Anna.”_ She blinked as he pulled an envelope from his coat pocket, placing it on the desk and tapping it with a finger for emphasis. _“He wrote this about a week or two after you left – he went looking for you, but you up and disappeared into thin air. Took me all this time to find you – who would’ve thunk, that you’ve been here in California this whole time.”_

 _“He was having an affair, Mr. Stark.”_ Saying it wasn’t the same as knowing, and it still hurt, even two years later. _“I may love him, but I respect myself far too highly to let a man betray my trust… especially one I married.”_

 _“He was trying to clear my name, Miss Anna,”_ Howard said a little gently, and pushed the envelope towards her. _“He and a friend of mine called Carter – I asked them to help me out when my inventions were stolen. There wasn’t any woman for him except you.”_

Darcy shook her head. _“Then why didn’t he tell me?”_

 _“I asked him not to.”_ He laid a hand on hers, an uncharacteristic gesture of comfort, if the awkward look on his face was any indication. _“If I knew this would’ve happened I wouldn’t have involved him.”_

She looked away, and went back to the door, opening it as she said firmly, _“Thank you for stopping by, Mr. Stark.”_

Howard studied her for a moment, donning his hat, but what he said as he brushed past her made her stop cold as his footsteps echoed down the corridors in time with girlish giggles.

_“He misses you, Miss Anna. And he never stopped looking for you.”_

Her eyes dropped to the letter on her desk, and Darcy picked it up and ripped open the seal. 

* * *

When she knocked on the door of Stark Mansion, the last thing she expected was to see a woman answer the door.

 _“Hello.”_ There was curiosity in her voice, and Darcy wondered if the woman was another one of Howard’s lady friends _. “Can I help you?”_

 _“I’m looking for Edwin Jarvis?”_ She smiled, the motion feeling fake as her heart thundered in her chest. _“My name is Anna… Lesznai.”_

 _“Peggy Carter, pleasure. Come in, he’ll be right over in a moment.”_ Darcy couldn’t help but watch the woman with a hint of growing self-doubt. What if Howard was wrong? What if Miss Carter wasn’t just a friend? What if – ?

 _“… Anna?”_ He looked the same, but at the same time, different. There was a sadness in his eyes, weariness etched into the lines of his face, but she felt her breath catch as she met his eyes. He looked at her as if she was a ghost, a sort of guarded hope with a twinge of fear, like she would disappear at any moment.

 _“Edwin.”_ She smiled shakily, and his eyes dropped to the letter he had written, twisted in her hands. _“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry – ”_

She couldn’t get much out past that before her lips were covered by his, arms pulling her in and crushing her against his chest as he kissed her, reverent with a measure of desperation.

 _“Anna, Anna, Anna…”_ He murmured her name over and over again, and Darcy forced herself to draw back as he looked on in hurt confusion.

 _“I need to tell you something, Edwin.”_ She tried to smile, but it fell flat. _“Wait until then to decide whether you still want me back.”_

She told her story to him, and Miss Carter and Howard as well. Described her first life, her death and subsequent resurrection as a vampyre, her hunts and her need for blood – and then her past lives as the same woman with many names, who travelled the world and sought adventure and action in her journeys. And then, when all else was done, she told of her life as Anna the tailor shop girl, who had met a British soldier and fallen in love.

 _“Darcy.”_ Edwin tried out the name, and she smiled a little sadly when he asked, “ _Have you told anyone else before? About your…”_

_“No. You’re the first.”_

Miss Carter was the one to break the ice, snorting as she sent Edwin a dry look. _“I understand now why you wear such high collared shirts, Mr. Jarvis.”_ Edwin turned a bright red, sputtering as Howard began laughing, and Darcy couldn’t help but crack a smile.  

 _“Thank you for trusting me – ”_ Howard coughed pointedly, and Edwin rolled his eyes. “ – _**us** with this_.” Edwin took her hand, and smiled at her hesitantly, shy but earnest as he said, “ _And as Anna or as Darcy, you’re still the woman I love.”_

He pressed a kiss to her palm, as Miss Carter looked on wistfully and Stark became somewhat contemplative, and Darcy felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off her shoulders as her mouth widened into a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to think that Darcy offers to change all three of them. 
> 
> Howard puts it off, says he wants to wait, but is killed in a car crash before it happens. Peggy declines, saying that being young forever seems like a terrible burden (no offense, Darcy), whereas Edwin says yes. And so when Howard and Maria die, Tony Stark is raised by his Aunt Peggy and his Aunt Darcy and his Uncle Edwin.


	20. magical meddling (darcy x pietro)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **magic spell au** \+ matchmaking au, darcy lewis x pietro maximoff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear lord this is so late. 
> 
> I really have no excuse, except that I was busy this whole weekend and literally had no energy to write. Then Monday rolled around, and work picked up, and... sigh. Well, at this point the goal is to finish all 30 prompts in a somewhat timely manner, but I apologize if I take a little while to finish. 
> 
> On another note, this one was hard to write, to be honest. I have no idea what Pietro's personality is supposed to be like (in any movie/comic/TV form) so I apologize if he seems out of character -- I just went with what I thought he'd be like.

The first time Darcy met Wanda Maximoff, the petite girl had ignored Darcy’s outstretched hand and went for a hug, her arms drawing tight around Darcy’s waist and the touch sending a tingling jolt down her body. Darcy wasn’t expecting the embrace nor the sudden shock of pain, left floundering as everyone else blinked at the sudden show of affection, and Wanda’s brother Pietro – who was super hot, even though he looked at her like she was dirt on the bottom of his shoe – had inhaled sharply, eyes boring into Darcy’s own as the arrogance drained away to be replaced by something else entirely.

“It’s lovely to finally meet you,” Wanda murmured, and drew back with a bright, soft smile that made the girl’s gaunt features glow in happiness. “I’ve seen so much about you.”

Darcy tried not to show her unease on her face, remembering what Jane had said about Wanda’s power of clairvoyance. “Good things, I hope?” she said with a weak smile, but Wanda had just beamed, reaching down and clasping Darcy’s hands in hers.

“The best,” she said, and Darcy felt the shock again, this time transferring into her through Wanda’s fingers. Darcy glanced at the girl in wide-eyed worry, but Wanda just winked, smiling. “The very, very best.”

When she finally pulled away, Darcy was left feeling strangely light and relaxed, and Pietro watched on with the faintest sense of desperation as Wanda finally turned away, leaving Darcy disoriented and out of breath.

“Can’t wait,” Darcy said dizzily, and all she saw was Wanda’s smiling face as her vision faded to black, the exclamations of the rest of the Avengers rolling into the low whisper of silence.

* * *

“Darcy!” Her eyes snapped open, and she sat up with a gasp that made the person at her side rear back a little.

“Hey, you okay?” Darcy blinked as she saw Pietro, of all people, lying by her side and watching her with worry as his hand cradled the base of her head, the other stroking her cheek. “I didn’t think the Frisbee hit your head that hard…”

“Pietro?” She drew back, looking around with growing franticness as she only saw tall grass for miles around. “What… where are we? What…. All I can remember is Wanda and – "

“Guess I’m not making such a good first date impression,” he joked, even though the smile didn’t reach his eyes, and Darcy was surprised at the vulnerability that flickered through his expression. “Haven’t really had much practice.”

“First date?” Darcy pulled back a little, looking around in growing panic as her vision began to tilt, the sensation making her fall back dizzily, the sky spinning above her. “… What’s going on – ?”

Pietro’s face popped into her vision, and there was so much disappointment in his eyes that Darcy wondered if it was because of her. “Maybe Wanda was wrong,” she heard him say softly, and she couldn’t fight the heaviness of her eyelids as she was pulled into darkness. 

* * *

There was a soft pressure against her lips, warm and lovely as a tongue stroked her own, fingers brushing over her cheeks as she leant up against a hard body, and –

Darcy’s eyes snapped open, her vision filled with silver hair and a fan of dark lashes casting shadows over a pale cheek, and it was instinct to raise her hands up and just _push_. There was the soft glow of lights throwing shadows onto the floor, and it took her only a second to place where she had woken up.

It was Pietro, again, and this time they were standing outside of her rooms at the tower, the hallway dark and empty. “Darcy?” Her eyes slid back to Pietro, who was watching her with an uncharacteristic tenderness, a far cry from the impatient arrogance that lurked in his gaze when they had first met. “You alright?”

Darcy swallowed, and she asked, “Am I in some kind of fucked up dream?”

Pietro’s soft expression seemed to melt away, his personality returning as his mouth curled into a dry, self-deprecating smile. “That bad, huh?”

She blinked, and something in his downtrodden expression made her stutter, “N-no…”

“… I’ll take that as a yes.” He sighed. “Sorry, I guess… about all of this. Just forget about it.” Pietro stuffed his hands into his pockets, shuffling back a little, but Darcy reached out to snag him by the sleeve before he could disappear.

“Hey, wait.” He didn’t look at her, so she stepped around him so they were face to face again. “What _is_ all this?”

He avoided her eyes. “I don’t – ”

“Don’t you dare try to tell me you don’t know what’s going on, because I know you do.” Darcy poked him in the chest, and he started a little in surprise. “ ‘Fess up, Speedy.”

“Don’t call me that.” He looked up, discomfort and practiced disinterest etched onto his face, and muttered, “… Wanda thinks she’s being funny.”

Darcy frowned as she began to see double, trying to focus her vision as he began to fade. “How… what does Wanda have to do with this… ?”

She felt herself falling, caught in a pair of surprisingly strong arms as her eyes closed. 

* * *

She heard the sound of china breaking, and when she opened her eyes she was standing in a mess of broken glass and pottery.

“Fuck!” Pietro swore lowly, nursing a bruised cheek, and Darcy blinked.

“… What the hell?”

“Our first fight,” he grunted lowly, and bent down to scoop up a bag of frozen vegetables from the floor, pressing it to his face as half-thawed carrots and peas fell from the ripped plastic. Looking up to the ceiling, he mumbled, “Thought your hex was supposed to show us the happy stuff, sis.”

“ _Our_ first fight?” Darcy glanced around in bewilderment. “From what?”

Pietro fidgeted, looking at his feet. “I cheated on you.”

Darcy knew that in reality, they had only just met, but the admission seemed to trigger a wave of fury and hurt, pouring out of her chest and filling her mouth until her tongue felt thick and heavy. “Is this supposed to be our future together?”

“ _A_ future,” he corrected, but Darcy shook her head as the pieces began to come together.

“First date, first kiss, first fight.” She exhaled slowly, her breath shuddering as she tried wrapping her head around the sheer impossibility of what was happening. “Why the hell would I want to date someone who’s going to cheat on me?”

“You wouldn’t.” His jaw tightened, and his smile was hard. “I told her, but she didn’t listen.”

“Wanda’s doing this?” He nodded, and when the black spots started filling her vision she stumbled backwards just in time to fall into a chair.

“You can end it now,” she heard Pietro say dimly, and then nothing. 

* * *

“Will you just stop it?!”

Pietro was shouting upwards again, but Darcy froze as she realized the position she was in: sitting on top of his stomach, lacking a lot in the way of clothing, save for a lacy set of lingerie. Below her, Pietro glared up at the ceiling, the flush on his cheeks steadily spreading down to his bare chest.

Darcy, on the other hand, had no problems looking her fill. He had the lean muscle of a runner – well, that _was_ sort of expected, but it was nice to have a visual confirmation – and under her hands were a set of _very_ nice abs that tensed as she brushed her fingers across the taut skin.

Pietro hissed. “Don’t do that.”

“Wait a second.” He finally managed to look at her, and Darcy smirked. “Is this supposed to be the first time we have sex?”

“Fuck you.” He glared.

“Isn’t that what you’re supposed to be doing?” She grinned cheekily at his growl, and squealed as he flipped her over onto her back, caging her against the mattress as his lips brushed against the side of her neck.

“Don’t tempt me,” he murmured into her skin, and she huffed as he rolled off to the side, lying next to her as they both stared up into darkness. “I cheated on you, remember?”

“Oh.” The reminder sobered her.

“Yeah.” She heard him scrub at his face in frustration. “Oh.”

She bit her lip, the silence settling over them, and she asked, “Is this the first time Wa– ”

“Don’t say her name,” he interrupted, slapping a hand over her mouth faster than she could blink, and she glared at him even though he couldn’t see it. “It triggers the next visi – ugh!”

Darcy smirked when he pulled his hand away, wiping it on the sheets with a sound of disgust. She waited until his muttering stopped, the sound of rustling fading, and asked again, “Is it?”

“… no.” Pietro’s voice sounded far away, quiet and distant. “She used to show me visions of the future, when we were… _kept away_.  She said it was so I had something to look forward to.”

Darcy paused. “… did she really show you the first time we – hypothetically speaking I guess – have sex?”

“No!” Darcy giggled, feeling the heat emanating from Pietro’s body as he flushed again. “She… she showed me other stuff. Like cooking dinner together. Watching movies, decorating our apartment. Grocery shopping – couple things.” His voice dropped. “… Normal things.”

The implication was clear, and she found herself wondering. “Did you… do we stay together? Even with the cheating thing?” 

“For the record, I never end up cheating – it’s to try and push you away.” She committed the confession to memory as he sighed. “But she said that she didn’t know. She said it’s hard to tell until we finally meet.” 

Darcy was quiet, her head spinning, and Pietro sighed. “Wanda, take us back, please?” 

As she closed her eyes, she whispered, “Not yet.”

* * *

An expression of surprise flashed across his face as he woke up, and Darcy smiled at him as she faced him in a wedding dress and veil.

“I’ll take my chances,” she said, and when his eyes flashed Darcy found herself bent over an arm, her hands thrown around Pietro’s neck as he kissed her in front of a crowded church.

When he pulled her upright, the church around them had melted away until they were standing in the tower, the wedding audience replaced by a circle of bewildered Avengers. Wanda was standing off to the side, her grin blinding as Darcy felt herself finally settle back into her body, anchored to the present.

Pietro stepped back, his expression flickering back up to a guarded sort of hesitance, but Darcy didn’t have to think twice before pulling him back, and his face lit up in a grateful smile.


	21. working relationships (darcy x erik)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **superhero au** \+ x-men crossover, darcy lewis x erik lehnsherr

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Snippets from the relationship of Sir Gareth of the Avengers and the supervillian Magneto. 
> 
> AU where the timeline is all skewed, Darcy plays Avenger, everyone’s codenames are now from Arthurian legend, and the term “superhero” is very loosely applied. 
> 
> Mostly because I watched Kingsman over the weekend, and I couldn’t stop myself.

Darcy was fresh out of college, paying off her student loans through some illegal freelance hacking work, when she got sucked into the life of an Avenger by a man whose codename was – and she still snickered about it, even after all this time – Merlin, of all things.

“Where’s King Arthur?” she had asked with a snort, and the plain-faced man raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

“At headquarters, deciding whether you’re worth investing his time in,” he said baldly, and that had shut her up quick.

She took over the mantle of Gareth, after her predecessor was killed – being one of the rare few on the team with no metahuman abilities, it took more than a few years to shape the lazy, unmotivated college grad with no prospects into a highly trained killer with a penchant for knives and bespoke wool suits.

Leather and spandex were  _so_  early 2000s – give her a bulletproof double-breasted navy jacket with a matching skirt any day, with a dash of bright red lipstick to match.

Only, her training had never covered what to do when your opponent wasn’t your run-of-the-mill human, but a mutant –an attractive, charming mutant with a penchant for terrible supervillian names.

“Magnus, you are hereby ordered to stand down and submit yourself to the Avengers Initiative for questioning.” She had practiced saying the name in front of the mirror for hours, in order to prevent herself from blurting out ‘magnum’ by mistake.

“Is this the part where you take me in?” The man watched Darcy from across the length of the alley, appreciation coloring his features as he dragged his gaze from the tips of her heels, up the line of her legs and curves in the custom-tailored suit, and then to her face, looking past the handgun held level to his heart and into Darcy’s eyes.

“Is this the part where you start your evil villain monologue?” Darcy retorted primly, and the man laughed at the quip.

“I have to say, you’re much more entertaining than the last one they tried sending after me.” His eyes lingered on the swell of her breasts, and then down to the flare of her hips under the tailored skirt. “And none of the others have filled out a suit quite as well as you have.”

“Right.” She rolled her eyes, and she pursed her lips as she fired a round of bullets from her little Smith & Wesson pistol, until the mag was empty. To her shock, they paused in front of him, inches from his face, and all she saw was his shark-like grin as he waved his hand towards her, the bullets whizzing back and drilling into her torso and stomach.

“Apologies,  _liebling_ ,” she heard him say, and as she fell to her knees she saw him step forward, a hand tilting her head up as he looked down at her with a measure of remorse. “Had the circumstances been different…” He smiled down at her regretfully, caressing her cheek and wiping the blood leaking from her lip before he strode past her and disappeared into the street, leaving her collapsed on the floor of the dark alley.

* * *

When she woke up, she was greeted with the white ceiling of the Avengers’ infirmary, as a fluffy-haired Bors was checking over her vitals.

According to Merlin, Kay and Percival were the ones who found her and brought her in – a stocky blonde man with a penchant for medieval weaponry, and slim redhead who’d been around for ages, despite not looking a day over thirty. She’d been hit in the ribs, both shoulders, and the stomach, twice – not counting the scrapes and bruises from their earlier scuffle, and the few nicks from when she’d stupidly tried using her knives. Bors called her resilient while Merlin called her plain lucky, but Darcy knew better – he had been playing with her, the bullets running clean through with little nerve damage and no bone contact. 

A week later, she was back out in the field, armed with Tristan’s freshly manufactured clay bullets and ceramic knives that she ached to bury in the smug bastard’s chest.

* * *

When she felt metal pipes wrap around her wrists, pulling her back against the alley wall, Merlin whispered “stall him” in her ear, and she blurted out the first thing that popped into her head.

“Metallica? Of all things, you choose  _Metallica_?" 

“Lovely to see you again too,  _liebling_.” Darcy wrinkled her nose at the term of endearment, and he chuckled as he turned to her, shark-smile stretched wide across his face as his eyes twinkled. “It’s catchy, don’t you think?”

A reluctant smile tugged on the side of her mouth at his charm. “There’s talk of the band suing you for using their name, you know.”

He merely let his lips curl up into an amused smile. “They can’t sue if they're dead.”

“If they’re dead, you’ll be the target of thousands of heavy metal fans,” Darcy deadpanned, “They’ll demand your head on a wooden pike.”

“Oh, they can try.” His cocksure attitude was bellied by a dark smirk, but there was a part of Darcy that found it fucking sexy. She had always had a thing for the rough-around-the-edges type, and Merlin never managed to train it out of her. He stepped forward, crowding against her, and her nose suddenly filled with the smell of iron and musk. 

“I was thinking of you, you know.” She inhaled sharply, feeling like a fish being circled by a shark. “It’s somewhat unfair that you know my name, and I don’t know yours.” 

“Fuck you,” she gasped, and he tilted his head to the side.

“If you insist.” He unbuttoned her jacket, snaking his hands into the spaces between her skin and her metal bonds. He could nearly fit the entire span of her waist between his hands, and at his squeeze Darcy relented.

“…Gareth,” she choked out, and he stared at her for a moment before laughing. 

“ _Beaumains_ , of Camelot’s knights?” She couldn’t breathe as his touch fell away, instead caressing her hands before bringing them to his lips, placing a lingering kiss on her fluttering pulse. “The knight of the fair hands – how fitting. A pleasure, Miss Gareth.” 

“ _Sir_ ,” she corrected sharply, and he chuckled.

“Of course.” He backed away, and Darcy struggled against the metal coils wrapped around her torso, keeping her pinned to the brick wall. “Until next time, _Sir_ Gareth.”

She seethed against the wall, watching helplessly as he walked away. “Any luck, Mordred, Lancelot?”   

“I’m in the same situation as you, Gareth.” Lancelot’s voice held a twinge of resignation. “Pretty sure cars aren’t supposed to bend this way.”

“The arm, remember?” Mordred’s voice held a dark edge to it, and she held back a shiver. Lancelot was the epitome of the perfect soldier, with military written all over him, but it was Mordred who scared the shit out of her – she had only seen his prosthetic arm in action once, and she could never un-see what he had done with it.

“Mission failed, sir,” she murmured, and Merlin sighed through the comm.

“Fall back, Avengers. We’ll get him another time.”

* * *

“Fancy seeing you here, Sir Gareth.” Darcy choked on her wine, coughing hoarsely as the glass was plucked from her hand and she was swept onto the dance floor, large hands twirling her.

“Metallica?” she said in surprise, before her expression settled. “Or did it change again?”

“Mr. X will do for tonight,” he murmured, and gave her a small smile that made her stomach flutter. She let him sweep her into a waltz, effortlessly merging onto the dance floor as she followed his lead. "What brings you to the Stark Charity Gala, _liebling_?" 

"Work." She scanned the room for her mark, her lips tightening when she saw the woman holding court near the buffet table, surrounded by a flurry of admirers.

“Oh?” He followed her gaze, his eyebrows rising. “And what does someone like you want with the White Queen?”

Darcy bit her lip, weighing the pros and cons as he simply waited patiently, and figured that it wouldn’t hurt to tell him. “She has a flash drive in her purse – I need to steal it before she sells it.” She glanced over again; it was hanging innocuously from the woman’s wrist, a tiny thing of beaded diamonds.

He smirked. “Too late." 

Her head snapped back to him. “What?!”

He grinned down at her. “I already bought it,” he said airily, and at her growing scowl he bent her over his arm in a dip, bringing his face close to hers. Darcy shuddered as his breath fanned across her lips, his eyes glinting with desire. “But I’m willing to negotiate a trade.”

She knew better than to fall for the easy bait, but Merlin had said, “at all costs” – and sue her, but she was curious. “I’m listening.”

“The flash drive, for your company.”

Her eyes flashed. “I’m not sleeping with you.”

“Pity.” Fingers tightened around hers, warmth running up her arms in rivulets from his touch. “I would’ve made it enjoyable.”

“I’m sure,” she muttered, and sighed. “No sex, but otherwise, I agree.”

“I suppose I can make an exception this once.” He fished the little flash drive from his coat pocket, and Darcy stiffened as he reached into her dress to clip it to her bra, fingers brushing over her cleavage as he looked down at her with dark eyes. “You would have looked lovely, lying beneath me.”

She was quiet for the rest of the night, and he was content to simply bask in her company while they spun around the dance floor, bobbing and weaving between other couples as Darcy ignored the concerned looks of her colleagues. For once, it was nice to feel wanted as the person she really was, not the person she pretended to be when off duty, and it felt good to let someone else see that – even if it was a metal-controlling megalomaniac.

Darcy wondered though, why he had bothered to buy it in the first place, and when she asked he said, “Because I was saving it for you.”

Evil villain notwithstanding, it was a sweet gesture – and Darcy fell asleep that night to memories of his smile.

* * *

“Seriously?” Darcy yelled at the man incredulously, as he sat on the tip of the Washington Monument. He merely smiled, his eyes lighting up when he saw her. “What the hell, dude?”

“You came.” To her irritation, he floated –  _since when could he fucking fly?!_ – down to where she had climbed up the construction scaffolding, landing lightly on the catwalk beside her. He smirked at her, having the gall to casually wave a hand and push away the helicopters surrounding them, dismantling the guns and forcing the aircrafts to the ground.

Darcy scowled as she saw the crowd below them growing, and stepped away from the edge as she sent him a glare. "What do you want?"

“Just wanted to catch up,” he said simply, and a little part of her heart that jumped at the earnest look in his eyes. He reached out to take her hand, squeezing it gently. "I missed you.”

"Funny you say that," she said with raised brows, “because I was off enjoying my well-deserved vacation when I got a call from the President saying that  _Magneto_  wanted to talk to me.”

“You like it?” He looked pleased with himself, and Darcy had to admit that it was better than the other names he had tried using during their previous scuffles. “I think this is the one.”

“Has a nice ring to it,” she admitted, “but that doesn’t change the fact that you basically _kidnapped_ the President of the United States just to get my attention – you know how much paperwork I’m going to have to fill out after this?”

"Well, I tried to take over a small country last week, and you didn’t show up.“ He shrugged, and she tried to ignore the way his hand stroked the skin of her wrist. "That blonde one, with the hammer… Gawain, was it? He doesn’t have much in the way of humor.“

“Gave you a little trouble, from what I hear,” she said archly, and he grimaced a little. “Anyways, the replacement is permanent – I’m not really equipped to be dealing with metahumans.”

His expression soured at her words, his grip tightening. “Says who?”

“Uh, says me?” He blinked a little as she shrugged her shoulders with a wry smile. “Sort of lacking the extra hardware. Under the suits I’m just a regular person – and I bleed and break easier than the rest." 

“You’re good at your job,  _liebling_.” The tenderness in his voice threw her off guard, and if she didn’t know better, she would’ve said that he looked at her the way one looked at a lover. “Excellent, actually – no… as you say, extra hardware needed.”

“Still, doesn’t make it any less true.” He frowned as she took a step back, pulling her hand away. “Gawain will be the one running after you from now on, Magneto – let me go on my vacations and run missions in peace.”

He studied her, his eyes darting over her features, and she tried to keep her breath steady as he stepped forward into her space, until the fine wool blend of her suit jacket was pressed up against his chest. “Is that what you want, Gareth? To be left in peace?"

She was proud that she didn’t tremble. “Yes.”

He exhaled slowly stepping back, and when he opened his eyes she wondered why he looked so disappointed. “I ask for two things then.”

Darcy tensed. “Which are?”

“Your birth name.” His answering smile was a little sad, a little wistful. “And a goodbye kiss.”

She let out a sigh of relief. “Alright, easy enough.” She stepped into him this time, smoothing her hands up his chest as he stood there, arms at his sides, and leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. Only, he turned his head at the last second, and suddenly Darcy found herself pulled into his arms, his hands tangling into her hair and banding tight across the small of her back to press against her.

He kissed well – _really_ well; in fact, he was probably her best kiss ever, which was a pity, seeing as the likelihood of running into him was slim to none after this. With that in mind, Darcy threw all her reservations to the wind, and just kissed back, pulling him closer as she scraped her nails at his waist and curled a hand around the base of his neck.

“Darcy,” she whispered when he drew away, his forehead resting against hers as they both panted. “My name is Darcy Lewis.”

“Erik Lehnsherr,” he murmured, and when he stepped back he caught her hand one more time, bending over and pressing his lips to her palm, then to her cheek. “ _Alles gute, liebling – bis zum_ _nächsten mal.”_

Darcy’s lips curled into a smile as he flew away, and she closed her eyes – “ _Alles gute,_ Erik _.”_

* * *

Forty-eight hours later, she was back on the beach of the little Bali bungalow she had rented for her vacation, and a shadow fell across the book she was trying to read.

“ _‘Mutants and the Human Genome?’_ ” She looked up, squinting at the shadow silhouetted against the sun and started as she saw a familiar grin. “Is it any good?”

“It’s alright.” She grinned, and Erik clamored down to sit beside her in the sand. “The real thing is more to my taste.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** All names are taken from King Arthur's court and the Knights of the Round Table. 
> 
> Darcy – Gareth  
> Merlin – Coulson  
> Arthur – Fury  
> Bors – Bruce  
> Kay – Clint  
> Percival – Natasha  
> Tristan – Tony  
> Lancelot – Steve  
> Mordred – Bucky  
> Gawain – Thor


	22. seeing double (darcy x steve x bucky)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **online relationship au** \+ fake identity au, darcy lewis x steve rogers x bucky barnes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally another triad! I think this is the second and last one I have planned for the challenge. 
> 
> Not set in any particular timeline, but very canon AU. Darcy is not in fact living in the Tower, Bucky and Steve are reunited and adjusted and all is happy and well, and it may very well be a modernhuman!AU with no super soldiers or brainwashed assassins or exiled demigods. Not too sure.

Darcy didn’t normally make it a habit to maintain internet relationships past the superficial common interests and occasional fangirling. There were always a few that lasted past the six month mark, sometimes prompting get-togethers at whatever comic convention happened to be occurring at the time, but in person Darcy was always found lacking – she wasn’t the type to worry about what other people said about her, but it didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt.

Online dating was another matter. The one year membership and accompanying profile was a gag gift from her younger sister as well as a barb at Darcy’s perpetual single status, and for the first few weeks she had to filter through a mountain of messages, at least ninety percent of which were requests for boob pics, hookups, or the video chat sex. Those all went straight to the trash, and she was left with a total of six guys. One of those people was Grant Buchanan.

Grant was different than the rest, but maybe that’s what drew her to him in the first place. He didn’t have a profile picture, or any face pictures at all – there were images of landscapes and animals, a gorgeous-looking golden retriever with the cutest smile  _ever_ , and hand-drawn sketches that Darcy wished she could use to decorate the bare walls of her apartment. He was polite, with a dirty sense of humor that Darcy could appreciate, and even though he was upfront about the fact that the profile was more of a joke, he had later confessed that he  _liked_ her -- despite the fact that they hadn't met in person yet. 

The very first message was almost nine months ago – and somehow, during the course of the late-night conversations and a series of Snapchat wars, she had fallen for him. And maybe, this once, she would be lucky enough to find someone who wanted to stay.

* * *

**ihadhimontheropes** , 10:48 PM  
how was work? 

 **lightninginabox** , 10:48 PM  
same old, same old. gofer work and corralling geniuses

 **lightninginabox** , 10:48 PM  
how was your business trip? 

 **ihadhimontheropes** , 10:49 PM  
over thank god. if i eat another plate of currywurst i’ll puke

 **lightninginabox** , 10:49 PM  
germany?!?! seriously?!?! pics or it didn’t happen 

 **ihadhimontheropes** , 10:49 PM  
sorry doll, didn’t bring a camera. maybe next time 

 **lightninginabox** , 10:50 PM  
if you go again bring me back a souvenir 

 **ihadhimontheropes** , 10:50 PM  
will do. you like german guys right 

 **lightninginabox** , 10:51 PM  
oh har har 

 **lightninginabox** , 10:51 PM  
thanks but no thanks 

 **lightninginabox** , 10:52 PM  
you hook up with any hot blonde german girls this time? 

 **lightninginabox** , 10:52 PM  
or did you become a hermit again and stay in

 **ihadhimontheropes** , 10:53 PM  
hey i like being a hermit

**ihadhimontheropes** , 10:53 PM  
plus brunettes are more my type

**lightninginabox** , 10:53 PM  
ooh, you trying to say something?

 **ihadhimontheropes** , 10:56 PM  
… maybe 

 **lightninginabox** , 10:59 PM  
wait

 **lightninginabox** , 10:59 PM  
really? 

 **ihadhimontheropes** , 11:00 PM  
yeah. are you free this weekend? 

 **ihadhimontheropes** , 11:02 PM  
i’d like to meet for coffee or something if you’re interested 

 **ihadhimontheropes** , 11:04 PM  
but if you don’t want to its okay too 

 **lightninginabox** , 11:05 PM  
no, i’d like that 

 **ihadhimontheropes** , 11:05 PM  
tomorrow, 2pm@the coffee cart in washington sq park? 

 **lightninginabox** , 11:06 PM  
it’s a date.

* * *

Darcy’s leg bounced as she sat on a park bench, her breath blowing out in clouds as she snuggled into her scarf. It was two o’clock on the dot, the snow-covered ground shining in the sunlight, and she looked both left and right nervously, trying to guess if the next person passing by was Grant. She pulled out her phone and shot off a quick message, burying her hands in her pockets as soon as she heard the telltale  _whoosh_  sound of the message sending.

 **lightninginabox** , 2:01 PM  
freezing my ass off. come soon!  

The minutes ticked by, and every so often Darcy would glance at her phone – 2:07, 2:24, 2:38 – until it was 2:57, with no reply and the park around her deserted. Her toes were numb, the cold penetrating through her leather boots and wool socks, as her cheeks felt like needles were being poked into her skin from windburn, and Darcy realized with a sinking feeling that she just got stood up.

Glancing at the blank screen of her phone again, she sighed, standing up slowly and ignoring the pitying look the coffee cart man sent her way as she approached him.

“Coffee please.” Her smile felt bleak, and by the man’s sympathetic expression it looked that way too. “As black as you can make it.”

He wordlessly handed her the coffee cup, steam rising in little swirls and ringlets, and when she dug a hand into her coat pocket the man shook his head.

“No need. They already paid for you.” Darcy blinked, and followed the man’s gaze until she saw two men sitting side by side a little ways away, not so discreetly watching her with a familiar dog sitting between them. Her expression felt like it melted away, leaving her with just a blank canvas for a face.

Blue-eyed, the both of them -- one with short blonde-brown hair and the other with his dark locks tied up into a messy ponytail – and Darcy realized belatedly that their respective bulkiness wasn’t just from oversized coats. The brunette was wearing little more than a leather jacket over a turtleneck despite the frigid temperatures, and the blonde had a wool coat that fell open across a tight sweater – neither of them was even wearing hats, and Darcy suddenly felt ridiculous in her parka, mittens, and giant scarf.

“Oh,” she said softly, and the man gave her an encouraging smile as she tucked a few dollars into his tip jar and walked over, her boots crunching against the hard-packed snow and ice.

They both smiled at her hesitantly as she approached, but Darcy looked away when the golden retriever trotted over, sniffing interestedly at her shoes and crotch. She laughed a little, one of the men making a scandalized noise and jumping forward to pull the dog away, but Darcy just knelt down and let the dog lick at her cold cheek until the blonde one finally spoke.

“Sorry,” he laughed a little, “he gets excited around pretty women.” He sounded embarrassed and nervous, and Darcy thought that he must be Grant, but then the brunette looked as if he was trying to hide behind his bangs as his cheeks flushed red – and Darcy could tell that it wasn’t just because of the cold.

“It’s okay.” She felt her cheeks heat up a little at the subtle compliment, but couldn’t bring herself to smile at either of them. “I’m just hoping there’s a reason I got stood up on that bench for an hour." 

The brunette winced. “Sorry, doll – the punk got nervous.” The endearment was familiar, and Darcy stepped forward hopefully.

“Grant?” When he shook his head, she turned to the blonde, but blinked in confusion as he did the same. “Wait, what?”

“There’s something we need to tell you about… Grant,” the blonde man said, his lips pursing as he swallowed.

Her hopes plummeted. “He really did stand me up, didn’t he.”

“It’s…” They exchanged glances, and he cleared his throat. “It’s a little complicated.”

Darcy rubbed at her eyes, a sinking feeling weighing down in her gut. “How so?”

“Grant Buchanan doesn’t exist.” She froze, her eyes locked on the brunette, who avoided her gaze.

Darcy coughed. “… Excuse me?”

“There… there isn’t any Grant Buchanan,” the blonde clarified, and Darcy’s breath left her lungs as her mind jumped to conclusions, her voice drowning in anger and humiliation.

“Is this some kind of a sick joke?”  Both men started, staring at her with wide eyes, but Darcy swallowed thickly. “Humiliate some stupid girl who – ”

“No!” She jumped at the forceful interruption, and even the brunette seemed surprised at the blonde man’s outburst. “No, that’s… that’s not what we were doing.”

“It was a joint account,” the other man offered, and when Darcy didn’t respond, he jerked a thumb into his chest. “James Buchanan Barnes. And that’s Steven Grant Rogers.”

“It was supposed to be a joke,” the one called Steve said weakly, “A friend was trying to set us up on a date, but we didn’t really find anyone we were interested in until we saw you.”

“I suppose that could be seen as flattering,” she muttered, and crossed her arms, “but that doesn’t help you much.”

“We were looking for a third person to make a triad,” James said simply, and Steve’s cheeks colored – he looked embarrassed, but didn’t even take his eyes off of Darcy as her gaze slipped away from him. James, on the other hand, met her stare head on, his expression unapologetic. “And there wasn’t an option for that on the dating site, so we thought it’d be easier just to share a profile. We were arguing about how to approach you, 'cause when we showed up together last time… things didn’t end well.”

“You mean a polyamorous relationship.” She was a little stunned, her gaze darting between Steve’s hopeful expression and James’s quiet patience, and her brain shorted out slightly at the mental images of being sandwiched between both men, limbs and bodies entwined in a bed. “Um, wow. Okay. That's... 

James’s expression hardened slightly as Steve’s face fell, even when he tried to smile. “You don’t have to be okay with it,” he said with poorly masked disappointment, standing abruptly with a half-hearted attempt at a smile. “You know what, we’ll just go – sorry for making you sit out there – ”

Darcy caught the end of his coat. "Dude, you can't just spring something like that on a girl and expect her not to freak out a little." She looked over the both of them again, for the first time realizing just how big Steve was. "Also, even though you're both smoking hot, that doesn't give you an excuse to make someone wait for an hour, especially in this cold."

"See?" James sent Steve a glare, and the blonde ducked his head down a little. "You never make a lady wait -- dunno where your chivalry went, punk." 

"I left it in the Arctic Circle," Steve snarked back with a roll of his eyes, and Darcy blinked as Steve shifted back, hesitant as he stuttered, "Look, I... I just figured that if you stayed – ”

"That it meant I was more invested or something?" The incredulousness of her voice made him flush. "Dude, who taught you how to interact with women?"

James threw his head back and laughed, grinning at her. "Trust me, I tried, but nothing ever stuck." Steve made an indignant sound, and James looked at him fondly. "Hopeless, really." 

"I bet." Absently, she noted that he had a really nice smile, and felt her lips curl up at Steve’s despondent puppy dog look, his dejected expression focused on the ground. Slowly, her simmering anger began to drain away, and she sighed. "You couldn’t have just asked to meet up in a Starbucks or something?”

“That’s what I said,” James snorted, and Steve shot him a dirty look.

“Starbucks doesn’t sell you coffee,” Steve grumbled, “It sells you syrup with fancy names that try to sound Italian but really mean nothing at all.”

“But it’s _delicious_ , and that’s all that matters!” At Steve’s affronted look, Darcy laughed a little, her lips twitching into a smile. She could feel James’s gaze fixed on her face, watching for any sign of unease or disgust, but Darcy kept the calm smile on her face as the hope began to return to Steve’s eyes. And when James stood up with a grunt, cracking his back to stand on Darcy’s other side, she realized that the suddenly relaxed set of his shoulders meant that she passed some sort of test.

“Look, I know we sorta dropped a bomb on you,” James said lowly, staring down at her with a resigned sort of half-smile. “And we made a pretty shitty first impression, but we _like_ you – a lot. And I speak for both of us when I say that we’re hoping you’d be wiling to give us a chance, but I understand if you aren’t.”

Darcy studied him, then asked, “And if I say that I want to take things slow?”

The two men exchanged looks, a silent conversation passing between them in seconds, and Steve said, “We’re good with anything you’d be comfortable with, Darcy.”

She looked at them, both men watching her with baited breaths, and pushed aside the immediate instinct to say no. They were the first men willing to give her space, willing to just walk away, and somehow Darcy didn’t think it was an act. There was something different about them – a seriousness and sincerity that was missing from all the other men she’d dated before, and she was tired of letting her insecurities rule her judgment.

She smiled, dumping her now-cold, untouched coffee into the snow, and as the dog leapt up to lap at the coffee-soaked ice, she said, “So if I said that I wanted a venti double shot caramel mocha with whipped cream and java chips?”

“Then to Starbucks we go!” James snickered, and Steve moaned a little in pain. The brunette threw an arm around Darcy’s shoulders and plucked the empty cup out of her hand to toss it over his shoulder, and Darcy was impressed when the paper cup sailed through the air in a perfect arc before dropping straight into the trashcan. “Can’t tell me you didn’t see that coming, punk.”

“Payback’s a bitch,” Darcy smirked. Steve grumbled, but the blonde hesitantly reached for her hand, his fingers engulfing the entirety of her mitten-encased hand.

“One fancy syrup drink, coming up,” he sighed, a sort of exasperated fondness flashing across his face, and as they walked out of the park together with the dog trotting happily ahead of them, Darcy grinned.

_I could get used to this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On a totally unrelated note, hooray for breaking 40,000 words! Holy cow O_o


	23. swan dive (darcy x wade)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **mythical creature/human au** \+ x-men crossover, darcy lewis x wade wilson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not familiar with Deadpool all too much besides his moniker of Merc with a Mouth, so apologies for any OOCness. 
> 
> And there's references to D&D, the Incredibles, but Darcy's basically a woman who becomes a swan when she puts on her cloak of feathers, or something like that. 
> 
> Also, more smut, but possible errors because I'm falling asleep again. :/

She landed quietly on the balcony, a shiver running up and down her neck as she began her transformation, and she savored the last feelings of the sun shining on her feathers. It took mere seconds for her true form to melt away, revealing smooth and supple skin draped in a trailing cloak that nearly engulfed her.

“… Holy shit.”

She started, whirling around and bristling on instinct, but she stopped when she saw the man from last night standing in the middle of her room, with nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips.

Darcy blinked, watching as the man’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly as he took in the feather cloak and her nakedness beneath it, and she sighed. “I can explain.”

“What the actual fuck.” Her eyebrows rose at the curse, but he paid her no attention as he stumbled back to slump into a chair, his eyes still fixed on the train of her cloak. “I had sex with a _swan_?”

“I’m not a swan,” Darcy protested, “I’m a swan _may_.”

“… Are you serious?” He looked delighted. “Like from Dungeons and Dragons?”

“They got everything wrong.” Darcy sniffed, the feathers on her cloak ruffling as she stiffened. He followed the movement, watching in fascination, and she said, “Sisterhood my ass. We _hate_ each other – territory lines are very clearly divided.”

“Right,” he said distractedly, and she paid no attention as the cloak dropped to the floor, leaving her naked as she calmly pulled on a silk robe. Darcy gathered up the cloak, draping it neatly over her shoulders again, and he watched in awe as the feathers seemed to melt into her arms, weaving into a tattoo of stark black lines that disappeared up her sleeves.

His eyes zeroed in on the swirls that peeked out from under her collar, and he breathed, “That was totally wicked.”

Darcy shot him an amused look. “Pixar fan, huh?” She smiled. “I have good taste.”

“Yes, yes you do.” He grinned back at her, his eyes raking across the loose silk and skin on display, and Darcy froze in place as he stalked towards her slowly, feeling very much like prey being hunted. She jumped a little when he slipped his hands into her robe and up, pushing the thin fabric off her shoulders, and exhaled harshly as his fingers jumped over the black ink sprawled across her arms and back, curling up over her shoulders and neck to end around her ears. “You fucked me good last night, sweetheart, but I _know_ I didn’t see these.” He traced a line across her collarbone, and Darcy arched up with a gasp.

“Huh.” There was a spark of mischief in his innocent expression as he repeated the motion, going up behind her ears this time, and Darcy’s eyes rolled up to the back of her head, her knees buckling under her just as the man pulled her against him.

“ _Ah_ – ” She didn’t think her mating haze was still in effect after the number of times she had come from the night before, but the soft glow curling over the edges of her vision said otherwise. “Please – ”

“If the lady insists,” he said cheekily, and lifted her up until she was coiled a round his front, legs hooked around his waist as he tugged the towel free and maneuvered her so she was pressing against his cock.

“Yes, _yes_ ,” Darcy hissed, basking in the stretch as she clenched around him, making him choke a little.

“Do that again,” he said hoarsely, moving forwards until Darcy was pressed up against the glass of the balcony doors, and she cried out at the coolness of it against her heated skin. “Come on, sweetheart…" 

“Ye- _es_!” He traced rough circles on her clit as he pounded her into the window, the glass rattling in its frame as Darcy clutched at his neck, head thrown back by the firm grip in her hair. He lowered his mouth to her neck, sucking bruises into the marked skin, and she cried out as sparks seemed to crawl through her abdomen, the feeling of his tongue on her swanmark sending her into a spiral of lust and desire.

“ _Vinsamlegast láttu mig koma_ ,” she panted against his neck, the foreign words thick and heavy on her tongue. “ _Vinsamlegast… ó guð já þarna_ – ”

“Shit, that’s hot,” he panted against the crook of her neck, and at a particularly deep thrust Darcy cried out, a sob rising from her throat as she came on his cock, warm and wet as the man groaned.

“Fuck, that feels good.” Darcy made a sound of contentment as he pried her off the glass and lay her back on the bed, pointedly thrusting up into her a few times before pulling out. She whimpered at the loss, hands going straight to his waist in an effort to guide him back inside her, but he caught her wrists easily, tying them up through the headboard with a bunch of fabric that looked a lot like his shirt.

“Oh my god…” She thrashed against the makeshift handcuffs, her arms straining as the man licked at her cunt with a lazy focus that had her grinding down on his face for more friction. 

“Kinky,” he mumbled into her clit, glancing up at her through heavy-lidded hazel eyes, only she broke eye contact when he thrust into her three fingers deep, The burn of it was a delicious stretch as he hit her G-spot , bringing her closer and closer to orgasm as he kissed hickeys into the soft skin of her inner thighs. “So, so gorgeous.”

Darcy conveyed her thanks with a particularly hard grind into his face, but the man just began pumping his fingers harder, curling up to hit that spot every time and then – and then –

_Oh, **yes**._

“Fuck.” He brought his hand up, sucking up the fluids on his fingers with a wink. “Didn’t know you were a squirter, sweetheart, but I’m happy to say that I’ve still got it!”

Darcy laughed a little, bone tired as the exhaustion from two orgasms finally hit her all at once, and flopped back on the mattress, the man lying half-over her legs as his cock poked her calf. “I’d return the favor, dude, but I can’t really move anything quite yet.”

“ ‘S all good, sweatheart, we’ve got all day… erm.” Darcy raised an eyebrow as he rubbed his head sheepishly. “What was your name again?”

She laughed, “Darcy Lewis.”

“Well, Darcy, the name’s Wade Wilson.” He rolled over to pull her into a dirty kiss, all nipping teeth and teasing tongues, and pulled back with a satisfied smile as she watched him dazedly. “And I hope you’re ready for round three.”


	24. for tradition (darcy x peter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **mistletoe au** \+ spiderman crossover, darcy lewis x peter parker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a cute little drabble, nothing super serious this time! 
> 
> Six more to go!

Darcy hummed under her breath, one hand holding a tray of cookies and coffee as she used the other to hit the wormhole detection device against her leg a couple times. Sauntering into the lab, she kept her eyes glued on the little screen as she sidestepped machines and equipment with practiced ease, but ran face first into someone standing in the middle of the aisle, the tray and thingamabob flying into the air as she stumbled backwards.

She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself for the impact and inevitable mess – only, there was no crash, no breaking ceramic, and no hard landing as she was caught around the waist by a skinny but strong arm. 

“You okay?” She cracked open one eye hesitantly, and blinked a little as her savior’s face came into focus. He was cute, an earnestly worried look on his face as he peered down at her through a set of hipster glasses, his hair sticking up in all directions. Darcy did _not_ squeak when he pulled her upright, and she stumbled into him a little, pleasantly surprised at the firm outlines of muscle she could feel as her hands landed on his chest. 

“Yeah, good, thanks,” Darcy said distractedly, fitting in a last second grope as the dude flinched a little in surprise, and spotted the top of Jane’s bun sticking out from behind a table laden with spare mechanical parts. “Yo, bosslady! Who’s the new kid?" 

“I’m not a kid!” the guy protested, and Jane’s head popped up, swiveling until her eyes landed on him, and she blinked owlishly.

“No idea.” With that, she ducked back behind the table, and Darcy sighed exasperatedly as she turned back to the guy. She raised an eyebrow when he held out her tray to her, doo-hickey crammed next to the coffee mugs, and took the proffered tray slowly.

“Huh.” Looking down at the pristine tray, then back up at him, she squinted slightly. “You wouldn’t happen to be another one of those super-types, would you? With super reflexes or something?”

“Erm…” He stiffened, his smile radiating discomfort as he stammered, “N-nope! Totally normal.”

“Riiight.” Darcy narrowed her eyes at him. She was impressed when he maintained eye contact, despite his squirming, and held out the plate of cookies in reward. “Alright, if you say so, kid. Cookie?”

“I’m not a kid,” he muttered again, but gingerly chose a snickerdoodle, taking a tentative bite before his face lit up. Darcy watched in amusement as he finished the rest of the sweet in two mouthfuls, offering him another cookie wordlessly when he looked up at her with the saddest puppy dog eyes she’d ever seen.

“Good?” Darcy asked dryly, and the kid looked at her with damn near stars in his eyes. 

“Y-yeah.” He blinked a little, a sad little smile on his face as he said, “Tastes just like the ones my mom used to make." Darcy wisely didn’t comment – by the melancholy look on his face, his mother was either gone, sick, or had passed away, and none of the three were good topics to bring up during the holidays. Particularly with Christmas right around the corner.

“Aragog, glad to see you made it!” Tony strode into the lab, a tablet in hand, and Darcy quirked an eyebrow at the nickname, watching the kid wince.

“Can you please not call me that?” He shifted uneasily, but Tony flippantly waved a hand at him.

“What about Shelob? Or Spinarak?” Tony finally looked up from the screen, his eyes narrowing as he saw Darcy. “Lewis? What are you doing next to Itsy-Bitsy?”

“Coffee and cookies.” Darcy lifted the tray up so Tony could see it, but Tony’s eyes were fixed on something near the ceiling, a shit-eating grin growing on his face.

“What are you smi – oh no.” Darcy looked at the guy’s paling face, and followed his gaze up until she saw the little bough of mistletoe, dangling from an open vent in the ductwork. _“_ Clint! _Seriously?!”_

The little sprig danced a little jig merrily, mocking her as she heard the snickers echoing from above her.

“Tradition, Lewis!” She heard the muffled shout, and glared at the vent menacingly. Tony cackled, gleeful smile stuck on his face as he folded his arms and leant back against a table, foot tapping as he started to hum the Jeopardy countdown song.

“Lay one on her, Spidey!” Tony hollered, and Darcy had only a second to register the dude’s apologetic look before he cupped her face and leant down to press his lips to hers.

Once the surprise wore off, Darcy decided that he was a nice kisser – a little to gentle for her tastes, but at her prompting he sucked on her bottom lip, and she sighed happily into the kiss as she started pushing back a little more. The guy exhaled softly, mouth opening under hers as she probed the seam of his lips with her tongue, and coaxed his own out to tangle with hers. He pulled her in a little closer, caressing her cheeks and ears with his fingers in a slow, smooth rhythm that made the tension drain out of her shoulders.

Suddenly, a lightbulb clicked in her head, and she jerked back with a gasp, nearly dropping the tray in her haste as she figured it out. “Aragog, Shelob, Spinarak… you’re _Spiderman_?”

The kid winced, hands dropping away from her face as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Darcy noted with some satisfaction that his lips were a little swollen, and when he flushed, clearing his throat, she knew he had caught her staring. The tray fell from her grip in disbelief, and her jaw dropped open a little wider as he shot out a thread of spider silk, catching the tray of mugs and cookies before they could hit the floor.

“That’s fucking cool,” she breathed, and the kid’s shoulders relaxed in relief as the webs detached, grabbing the tray with his hands and offering it to her.

“Enough with the chit-chat, Lewis, Charlotte and I have science to do.” Tony’s voice cut in, ruining the moment as the kid stepped back, clearing his throat a little as his cheeks flushed, and Darcy swatted at the mistletoe branch that was flailing around near her ear like an annoying gnat. Tony snatched the tray, poking at the web silk delightedly as he stuffed a couple cookies into his mouth, and the guy shrugged as they exchanged looks, smiling at her sheepishly.

“I’m Peter, by the way.” He scratched his ear awkwardly as he held out a hand. “Erm, Peter Parker, that is.”

“Darcy, science wrangler and queen of the lab minions.” She took the hand, grinning. “Welcome to the tower, Spidey.”

He sighed at the name. Casting a mournful look in Tony’s direction, he said, “Please, _please_ just call me Peter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thinking up nicknames for Peter was a lot harder than I thought it'd be. The fact that I went with Spinarak (a spider Pokemon from the second generation, Johto Region - is it odd that I remembered that?) means that I was stretching it :/


	25. mornings after (darcy x johnny)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **high school au** \+ fantastic four crossover, darcy lewis x johnny storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ten times Darcy and Johnny cross paths in the early hours of the morning, and the one time it manages to become something more. 
> 
> Or, where the walk of shame somehow turns into one of those meet-cutes.
> 
>  
> 
> ** Unashamedly cheesy, with the drama and stereotyping required from a standard high school movie. Each instance is set about a week apart, occurring on a Saturday or Sunday morning.

**1.**  

Darcy sighed, scrubbing her face with the back of her hand as she held her strappy heels with the other, the concrete sidewalk cold and damp against her bare feet. It was early – probably sometime before seven, judging by the light bluish-yellows peeking over the horizon, and she sighed in relief when she rounded the corner and saw her house come into view.

She was two houses away when she heard the low purr of an engine, and blinked when she saw a motorcycle coming down the other side of street, pulling into the house across from hers as the tires crunched against the loose gravel in the driveway.

The rider pulled off the helmet, his eyes swiveling towards her, and Darcy raised a silent eyebrow in challenge when the guy – scruffy with dark blonde hair, blue eyes, a panty-dropping smirk curling up on his face, but somehow familiar-looking in the faint light – winked at her and mimed an exaggerated ‘ _shh’_ with a finger over his mouth. Darcy shrugged, saluting him with her dangling heels, and trotted down to her front door, glancing back only once she was inside.

There was a twinge of disappointment when she only saw the motorcycle, sitting alone in the driveway, but she closed the front door quietly behind her as she snuck up the stairs for a shower.

* * *

**2.**

She recognized him the week after. It was probably the remnants of the hangover that clouded her memory, but she had freaked out a little when she realized who exactly lived in the house across the street from hers.

Epitome of the popular high school jock, star forward of the soccer team, alias Human Torch on the field – how was she _not_ aware that Johnny Storm lived across the street from her?

Granted, she had only started going out to house parties after she got her acceptance to Culver, but still. How _the_ _fuck_ did she not notice?

“Storm,” she greeted with a casual nod, and Johnny had looked up from his perusal of her outfit of choice that night – leather leggings paired with a loose tank top that dipped low over her cleavage – with a startled look before it had melted into something wary.

“… Do we know each other?” He looked tense, his eyes darting to his motorcycle, probably trying to decide whether he had enough time to run, and Darcy bit back a laugh.

“Not in the way you’re probably thinking,” she said, and he blew a breath of relief before a cocky smile grew on his face.

“You wanna come by sometime, then?” He jerked a thumb towards his door. “Get to know one another… neighbor to neighbor.”

“Maybe another time, Sparky,” Darcy snorted, her lips quirking up when she noticed the faint smears of lipstick on the corner of his mouth. “You got a little something…”

He reached up, wiping the makeup away as she turned away, and called out after her as she unlocked her door. “What’s your name?”

She looked back at him archly, the sass hiding the frown that wanted to cross her face. It figured, that the school soccer star wouldn’t even recognize her, even if they’d only been in five classes together since sixth grade.

“Figure it out.”

* * *

**3.**

“Kat, right?” 

Darcy snorted as Johnny sidled up next to her. “Not even close.”

“Allison?”

“Nope.”

“Sarah?”

Darcy leveled him with a look. “You want something, Storm?”

“Hey, just trying to make conversation.” He grinned, dropping the subject as he tugged on a loose curl that had fallen from the sleek ponytail she’d sported the night before. “Sex hair’s a good look on you, neighbor.”

“You pull it off pretty well, too.” She laughed, eyeing the way his hair stuck up and the wrinkled creases in his t-shirt. “Who was the lucky girl?”

“Crystal Amaquelin.” He sighed a little, a dirty grin on his face, and Darcy raised an eyebrow. “Total wildcat, I tell you.”

“Huh.” He frowned a little at her sound of surprise. “I thought she was dating Pietro.”

“Maximoff?” Johnny scoffed. “Doubt it. Guys like him don’t know how to keep a girl satisfied.” 

Darcy bristled at the implied insult on Pietro’s behalf. The kid and his sister were immigrants from Eastern Europe that had transferred in the middle of their sophomore year, and although the majority of the kids at school ignored the two siblings, Darcy had developed a soft spot for the twins when she began tutoring Pietro in English.  They were good kids, if a little socially awkward.

“Whatever, Storm.” He blinked a little at her curt response, brows furrowing when she brushed past him and strode quickly to her house.

“Hey, was it something I said?” She didn’t bother responding, shutting the door behind her with a decisive click.

* * *

**4.**

“So apparently you were right.” Darcy tilted her head to the side. Johnny had a scowl on his face that was as telling as his clothing – he was in loose shorts and a plain white shirt, flip-flops on his feet as he rubbed sleep out of his eyes. “Crystal got back with Maximoff; apparently I didn’t…”

“Satisfy her?” Darcy snorted at his disgruntled expression. “You’re too full of yourself, Charmander.”

“Hey, I’m at least a Charzard,” he protested, and she chuckled when he yawned. 

“Didn’t go out?” she asked, and he shrugged.

“Nah, didn’t feel like it.” He looked at her with a touch of intent in his eyes, and Darcy told herself not to read into it too much. “What about you? Did you find yourself a hot boytoy for the night?”

“Nah.” Darcy quirked her lips, and his eyes fell to the giant tote bag and pillow under her arm. “Girl’s night, but I’ve got some things I gotta do today so I came back early.”

“Sleepover?” Johnny’s grin widened. “Do you have pillow fights in your underwear?”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “In your dreams, dude.”

“Well, when I dream about you we’re busy doing other things.” She blinked at his suggestive grin, and sighed, an exasperated smile on her face.

“Have a good weekend, Storm.”

“You too, neighbor.”

* * *

**5.**

Darcy blinked a little when she saw him leaning up against her mailbox, idly playing a game on his phone, but he straightened up when he saw her, tucking his phone into his pocket.

“Hey.” He grinned, but his face seemed to fall a little she slowed to a stop in front of him, and his eyes taking in her disheveled figure. “… Fun night?”

Darcy shrugged. Her long-time hookup buddy had finally gotten his head out of his ass and asked Natasha out, and so she had flown solo for the night, crashing on Jane’s couch. “Eh, it was alright.” she said, and offered him a questioning smile. “What brings you to my side of the street, stranger?”

“You didn’t show up last week,” he shrugged, his voice a tad too nonchalant to be convincing. “Was wondering if something had happened to you, that’s all.”

Darcy raised an eyebrow, a warm feeling rising in her chest. “I was out of town visiting family,” she said, “but glad to know you missed me, hotshot.”

His lips quirked up at the nickname, and his smile seemed lighter as he asked, “You finally gonna tell me your name this week?”

Darcy felt her heart fall a little – for _no_ reason, she told herself firmly. “We go to the same school, Storm.” She smiled a little, but the gesture didn’t quite reach her eyes.  “If you still can’t figure out who I am, then it sort of says a lot about the circles we run in, doesn’t it?”

He paused, a little startled at the touch of bitterness that slipped into her voice, and she sighed, stepping around him and walking up the steps of her front porch. “See you around, Storm.”

* * *

 **6.**  

Darcy walked up just as she saw a girl leaving his house. Blonde-haired, with a dress and heels in one hand, the girl had a pleased expression on her face as she sauntered down the block, throwing a kiss back at Johnny as he stood shirtless on his front lawn, watching her go.

Darcy wanted to swallow the sudden wave of hurt that washed over her, but it lodged itself in her chest and crawled up her throat, and she grit her teeth against the faint prickling she felt in her eyes. When she came closer she noticed the frown painted on his features, but had no time to think about it as Johnny saw her, flinching a bit before recovering with a too-wide smile.

“Hey!” He smiled at her, his eyes darting towards the girl’s retreating figure, and Darcy forced a grin on her face.

“She’s cute.”

Johnny’s smile faded a little, but he played it off with a casual shrug. “Eh, it was okay.”

“If you say so.” Darcy merely nodded, smiling tightly. She waved a hand in the general direction of her house. “I’ll just – ”

“Hey, you okay, neighbor?” Johnny’s smile had faded into a look of concern, and Darcy swallowed thickly. The effects of the all-nighter she’d pulled for her and Natasha’s civics project were weighing on her body, plus the added punch of seeing that girl…

She shook her head, managing to smile as she said, “All-nighter for a project. AP Civics.”

Johnny winced in sympathy, but brightened as he said, “Hey, how about we go for breakfast huh? You always sleep better with some food in the stomach after a long night.”

“Thanks, but I’m good.” Darcy had no desire to go anywhere with him, not when she could see the hickeys left over his chest and neck, and the phone number scribbled on his hand. As she turned, she couldn’t hide the hurt as she said, “Ask your lady friend – if you run, you can probably catch up to her.”

She didn’t bother looking back, even when Johnny called after her. 

* * *

**7.**

“James, I told you that I’m fine.” Darcy sighed as Bucky only pointedly hefted her up higher, and she tightened her arms around his neck.

“You try walking home on that ankle, and you’re asking for an accident, doll.” She rolled her eyes, but leaned her head against James’s chest, breathing in the familiar scent of cigarette smoke and leather.

“I thought you said you were going to quit,” she remarked, and James rolled his eyes.

“Tasha’s riding my ass about that already, don’t need you to keep hounding me too,” he said gruffly, but there was a note of affection that had Darcy smiling.

“Good; if anyone can get you to quit, it’s Natasha.” They rounded the corner of her block, and Darcy went still as she spotted Johnny sitting on the steps of his front porch. James looked down at her questioningly, but she played it off, and continued, “Glad you finally found the balls to ask her out.”

He snorted. “Yeah, yeah.” She saw James eye Johnny from the corner of her eye, nodding his head in acknowledgement as he murmured, “Since when did Storm live near you?”

“Don’t ask me, I found out a few weeks ago,” she said lowly, and James hummed. “What?”

“Nothing.” The innocent tone didn’t fool her, and she slapped James on the arm once he set her down next to her front door. “Keys?”

Darcy dug them out of her pocket, dropping them in his waiting hand and crossing her arms as she glanced across the street. Johnny was staring at her, his brows knitted together, something flickering over his face until it settled on a blank expression, and she looked away when his gaze hardened.

“C’mon, doll.” James ushered her inside, and Darcy threw Johnny a weak smile over her shoulder as James shut the door behind her. She caught a glimpse at the way his hands were clenched at his sides, but she told herself she was imagining things, letting James fret over her twisted ankle as her mind went back to the expression on Johnny’s face.

For a second, it looked like jealousy.

* * *

**8.**

She stepped out of the car, smiling gratefully at Bruce as he handed her the plastic bag of her clothes. “Just toss them into the wash, and they should be fine,” he said, and Darcy nodded, running around the car quickly to press a kiss on Bruce’s cheek through the open window.

“Thanks, Bruce. Drive safe.” She waved as Bruce drove off, standing in the middle of the street and watching his car disappear even as Johnny popped up by her side.

“Banner, huh?” He eyed her clothes – a worn science club shirt with Bruce’s name stitched on the back, and a pair of loose boxers that reached her knees. “He doesn’t seem like your type.”

Darcy huffed, pushing down the irritation she felt at the faint accusing note in his voice, and retorted, “Bruce is sweet. Why wouldn’t he be my type?”

“Dunno.” Johnny’s voice turned cool. “Football quarterback, to the president of the science club – just seems like kind of a stretch, that’s all.”

Darcy bit her tongue at the insults. There was no reason for her to tell him that she hadn’t slept with James, nor Bruce. She glanced down at the bag with her wet clothes, the vomit stains long gone after soaking overnight, and muttered, “whatever,” as she turned her back on him and walked to her door, shutting it a little harder than necessary.

* * *

**9.**

She woke up to Clint perched at the end of her bed looking bright and chipper, not at all like he had slept on her couch, and despite the fog of sleep still clouding her head, she walked him out, kissing him goodbye on the cheek. She watched as he winked, ducking into his car and pulling away from the curb, and jumped when Johnny stepped out from behind the large bush separating her house from the one next door.

“Storm?” Darcy cleared her throat, and frowned a little at the wooden expression on his face. “What’s up?”

He sneered, his eyes following Clint’s car as it disappeared around the corner. “Barton? Really?" 

She frowned at the nastiness in his voice. “What?" 

“Nothing. Just thought…” He chuckled humorlessly, turning on his heel and striding across the street. “Well, it doesn’t matter, does it?”

“Hold on… Hey!” Darcy darted after him, catching his sleeve before he reached his front door, and stepped around him with a scowl as she crossed her arms. “What’s with the sudden attitude?”

Johnny stared at her with a searching look, but shook his head. “Screw this,” he muttered, and Darcy felt the beginnings of anger crawling up her spine, her heart clenching.

“ ‘ _Screw this_?’ ” Darcy repeated incredulously, glaring as she put her hands on her hips. “Okay, seriously man, what’s your problem?”

“Is this some kind of payback for sleeping with Namorita?” Johnny scoffed, and Darcy reared back in surprise at the coldness of his tone. “You barely talked to me after you saw her leave my place, and all of a sudden you start bringing guys home?”

“Hold up, since when do you care about who I sleep with?” She narrowed her eyes. “And since when does it matter?”

“Matters if you don’t want people thinking you’re an easy lay.” Johnny didn’t hold back his cruel smirk, and Darcy felt like someone had poured ice water over her head. “Barnes, Banner, Barton... I mean, if you’re looking for your next target, Stark is always game for hooking up – ”

 _Crack._  

“Fuck you.” She shook with anger, her hand stinging, and he looked at her in shock as he touched his cheek, freezing when he saw her watering eyes. “I don’t know what gives you the right to act like you know me, but _fuck_ _you_.”

She ran back to her house, slamming the front door, and turned on the shower, standing under the hot spray until the water turned cold.

* * *

**10.**

She woke up in her living room, wrapped in a next of blankets as the DVD menu for Firefly glowed on the TV screen, and she sighed heavily as she cracked her back. Glancing out the window and seeing no sigh of Johnny or his motorcycle, she got up and slipped out the front door, grabbing the newspaper sitting on her front lawn, but as she was going back to the house a voice stopped her.

“It’s Darcy.” She started, whirling around, and he was right there, standing inches from her somberly. “Right?”

“Took you long enough.” She didn’t bother hiding the stoicism in her voice, shaking her head. “Congrats. How’d you figure it out?”

“I asked Barton.” He looked at her with an odd sort of expression, his hands fidgeting at his sides. “You let him crash on your couch.”

“Yeah.” She smiled baldly, brushing past him as she said bitterly, “Wasn’t really in the mood to fuck him last week.”

“Darcy, wait.” She closed her eyes, waiting, and he exhaled softly. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? For what I said. You didn’t deserve any of it, and I was… I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s none of my business.”

“You’re right,” she said shortly, starting up the steps of her porch. “It isn’t.” Johnny swallowed audibly, and his next words made her stop short.

“… I _liked_ you.” She paused, turning back to face him, and Johnny had an uncharacteristically honest expression on his face. He smiled self-deprecatingly, his hands shoved in his pockets in a nervous gesture to hide his shaking hands. “And I was jealous, when I saw you with those guys – I was angry. Because I thought that we _had_ something, and I just…”

He trailed off, Darcy waiting in silence, and he sighed. “I screwed up.”

“You think?” she asked, but there was no bite in the remark.

He smiled humorlessly. “Yeah,” he said quietly. He rubbed the back of his neck, his shoulders hunched, and she suddenly realized that he was wearing a thick coat over a sweater, with dark circles under his eyes. Her eyes darted to the porch chair off to the side, and the cushions were obviously mussed, crushed in a way she recognized from falling asleep on that very chair many times.

“Were you out here all night?” Johnny’s eyes followed her gaze, and he flushed dully.

“I thought you went out – I didn’t want to miss you if you came back,” he muttered, looking at the chair still. “… I’ll fix that.”

“It’s fine.” Darcy pursed her lips, studying him, and he shuffled his feet a little.

“That’s… that’s it, I guess. I just wanted to apologize.” She raised an eyebrow. “See you around, Darcy.” She watched silently as he gave her a solemn smile, before walking across the street and disappearing around the back of his house.

* * *

**+1.**

Exhaling slowly, Darcy closed the door behind her, crossing the street purposefully and marching right up to his porch, ringing the doorbell firmly. She heard murmured voices, before a gorgeous, blonde-haired woman opened the door, taking Darcy a little by surprise.

“Yes? Can I help you?”

“Erm.” The woman blinked at Darcy expectantly, and she asked, “Could I speak to Johnny, please?”

The woman’s eyes narrowed, scanning her up and down, until Darcy saw Johnny coming down the stairs. His eyes widened, hurrying down and pulling the woman out of the way, throwing Darcy a quick look as he muttered something in the woman’s ear.

Darcy couldn’t hear what he said, but the woman had glanced at her with surprise before nodding and retreating back into the house, a curious expression on her face. Johnny rubbed the back of his head, his smile awkward as he stammered, “Sorry, Sue… my sister thought you were…”

He stopped short, realizing what he was going to say, and Darcy said dryly, “Another one of your hookups?”

He winced, looking a little despondent as his fingers fidgeted at his sides. “… you said you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yeah.” Darcy gave him a small smile, and Johnny’s eyes widened as she asked, “Do you want to grab some pizza with me? Tonight, say… seven?”

He looked at her in astonishment, the shock slowly turning into a hopeful expression. “… Yeah.” The grin on his face was genuine, not one of his cocky smirks or charming smiles, and he laughed a little in disbelief. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course, somehow _this_ becomes the behemoth of the series, but here's the Darcy/Johnny pairing, as promised!


	26. elevator encounters (darcy x pepper)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **elevator meeting au** \+ fashion industry au, darcy lewis x pepper potts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five times Darcy made a fool of herself in an elevator, and one time she didn’t.

**1.**

“Hold the elevator!”

Darcy groaned when she heard the click-clack of heels against the marble of the lobby, but grudgingly mashed the open door button, sticking an arm out to keep the doors from closing.

The perpetrator was tall and leggy – no doubt one of the models, but only as the doors slid shut did Darcy realize who the woman was.

“Pepper Potts?” Darcy wouldn’t admit that her voice came out in a squeak, but she gaped at the woman unattractively, her mouth falling open.

“That’s me.” The redhead smiled warmly, her expression the picture of serenity at five thirty in the morning, and Darcy took a scalding gulp of her coffee, wincing at the burn of it as it went down. After the pain had passed, she cracked open an eye to see Potts watching her with a measure of amusement playing over her features. 

“Nope, not a dream,” Darcy muttered, and the woman laughed as the elevator doors opened.

“Have a nice day,” she said as she breezed out of the car, and Darcy managed to weakly call out, “you too,” before the doors slid closed.

“I just made an idiot of myself in front of _Pepper Potts_.” She slumped against the wood paneling, rocking her head back into the wall as she groaned. “Stupid, stupid, stupid…”

* * *

**2.**

“Am I interrupting something?”

Darcy froze, her hand awkwardly stuck under the waistband of her skirt, and slowly looked up to see Ms. Potts – it didn’t seem _right_ to just call her Pepper – looking like she didn’t know whether to back away or start laughing. 

“Uh.” Darcy did a little half-shuffle out of the way, backing into a corner of the elevator car so the statuesque woman had space to step inside, and her cheeks burned in mortification as she saw Ms. Potts glance at her from the corner of her eyes.

“I – uh, I wasn’t… uh, doing… y’know, like getting off or anything.” Darcy didn’t know what alien being possessed her to say that, but for some unearthly reason she kept talking, even as Ms. Potts’s eyebrows rose. “You know how when you break in new underwear it tends to bunch really awkwardly and you have to like, keep adjusting? Yeah, that’s… that’s what I was doing. Not whatever you might be thinking.”

“I understand.” There was a small smile on the woman’s face, and Ms. Potts chuckled warmly. “It’s worse when it’s lace – the stuff never stops itching until after a few washes.”

Darcy’s head was suddenly assaulted with the image of Pepper Potts in lingerie, black see-through lace and satin, and her brain short-circuited.

“Maybe try a bathroom next time?” Ms. Potts gave her an amused look as she stepped out.

Darcy didn’t even wait for the doors to close before she face-palmed. 

* * *

**3.**

Darcy smashed the door close button with her elbow, desperately trying to keep her grip on the ginormous stack of photo contest portfolios, and just as the door was an _inch_ from closing the elevator chimed, sliding open again as someone pushed the up button.

She scowled at the ceiling, her eyes finding the security camera in the corner, and glared at it. “Oh, come on!”

“Sorry, sorry.” Darcy nearly choked on her own saliva as Ms. Potts hurried inside, quickly smashing the door close button and sighing in relief just as the door slid shut on a faint “hold the elevator!”

“Oh thank god,” she huffed, and Darcy managed to snap her mouth shut and paste a smile on her face just as the woman turned towards her, blue eyes lighting up in recognition.

“You’re the girl from that other day, right?” Darcy blinked dumbly. “With new underwear?”

“Oh, god. Yeah, that’s me.” Darcy laughed nervously, trying to calm her thundering pulse at the redhead’s dazzling smile. Only, in that split second, she felt her tense, blood-deprived fingers slip, with the stack of portfolios tumbling to the floor.

Ms. Potts jumped a little as the bound presentation files scattered across the floor of the elevator, but it took a second for Darcy to react, just staring blankly at the mess in disbelief.

“Oh fuck me.” At her side, Ms. Potts snorted, and Darcy felt her ears burn as the model knelt down – holy shit, she was wearing a pair of white slacks that Darcy could never pull off in a million years and that probably cost as much as her rent and _fuck_ her ass looked good – and began picking up said portfolios.

“Oh god, you don’t have to do that.” Darcy dropped to her knees, scrambling as she tried to shuffle them into a haphazard pile. “I’m a total spaz, just let me – ”

“These are amazing.” Darcy looked up in surprise, and to her growing horror, the woman was flipping through one of the folders, sitting back on her heels and studying a black and white shot that Darcy knew like the back of her hand. 

 _Fuckity fucking fuck_ , why did she have to pick up Darcy’s portfolio, of all the ones on the floor?

“T-thanks,” Darcy stuttered, refocusing her eyes to the floor as she felt Ms. Potts’s surprised gaze turn to her.

“This is your work?” There was an impressed note in her voice, and Darcy ducked her head a little to hide her flush.

“My portfolio,” Darcy said, with a helpless shrug that she hoped came off as casual. “Uh, I’m just an intern, but there’s this photo … contest thingy – winner gets the chance do a shoot with one of the company models. Be the photographer, I mean. But there’s a crapton of applicants, and – sorry, you probably don’t want to hear about all that.” Darcy chuckled nervously, biting her lip as she straightened up, portfolios pressed against her chest, and she blinked when she saw Ms. Potts staring at her with a look she couldn’t quite place.

“I see.” The woman smiled, tucking the portfolio into the pile in Darcy’s arms, and as the doors opened she said, “Best of luck to you then, Darcy Lewis.”

The chime of the elevator door closing covered Darcy’s startled squawk, and she could only gape as the stack of folders fell from her arms again.

* * *

**4.**

Nearly face-planting on a Monday morning was not Darcy’s idea of starting the day out right, but doing it in front of Pepper Potts was even worse.

Nearly face-planting, and falling _into_ Pepper Potts was like a nightmare come true.

“Jesus, I’m so sorry. “ Darcy leapt backwards, very nearly spilling her freshly purchased coffee all over herself, but she gingerly managed to catch herself on her tottering heels. She paled a little at the downright pissed expression on the woman’s face, and she asked, “Are you alright? Did I hurt you? I knew I shouldn’t have worn these heels – ”

“I’m fine,” Ms. Potts muttered sharply, and Darcy shrunk back at the shortness of her tone. “It happens.”

“… Right.” Darcy swallowed, her gaze dropping to her feet. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

Ms. Potts looked over, her eyes taking in Darcy’s downcast expression, and sighed. “I apologize,” she said softly. “I had an unpleasant night yesterday. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

“ ‘S alright.” Darcy shrugged a little, and bit her lip to prevent herself from looking too nosy.

It didn’t work, obviously, as Ms. Potts chuckled a little bitterly. “I broke up with my girlfriend last night.”

Darcy stilled. “… Oh god, I’m so sorry.” She sighed, “I totally made your day worse, didn’t I.”

Ms. Potts had a humorless smile on her face. “Compared to last night, and the fact that she took the espresso machine with her, a little stumble is nothing.”

“She took your _espresso machine_?” Darcy’s eyes widened, a thrum of outrage pulsing through her on Ms. Potts’s behalf. Messing with someone’s caffeine drip was _not_ cool. “Holy banana balls, that’s cruel.”

“I agree.” Ms. Potts laughed a little, a spark of amusement shining through her gloominess. “She hated coffee. I’m sure she did it to spite me.”

“What a bitch,” Darcy blurted out, and slapped a hand over her mouth in horror as Ms. Potts turned to look at her in surprise. “Oh shit, I didn’t mean that.”

“No, no, bitch would probably be the right word to use.” Her lips curled up into a wry grin. “Lord knows she’s called me worse.”

Ms. Potts’s face fell a little at that, and she looked so sad that Darcy felt her heart twinge a little. Glancing down at her untouched cup of coffee, she mentally kicked herself as she offered it out to the woman. “Here, take it.”

Ms. Potts blinked a little in surprise, eyes staring longingly at the cup but hesitating, and Darcy firmly reached out and grabbed a hand, pushing it into the woman’s grasp.

“It’s a double shot cappuccino.” Darcy gave the redhead what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “I… erm, it’s not skim or soy or anything – I guess you can just give it to someone else if you don’t want it – but you look like you need it more than I do.”

Ms. Potts let out a soft, surprised, “oh,” but couldn’t say much more before Darcy shuffled past her and out the elevator doors.

“Hope you feel better, Ms. Potts.” Darcy managed a smile and a wave, and turned away before she could see the redhead’s stunned expression staring after her.

* * *

**5.**

“So I hear congratulations are in order.”

Darcy yelped, fumbling with her phone, and her eyes widened when she saw Ms. Potts standing in the back corner of the elevator, looking like she’d just stepped off a runway. She was dressed in an evening gown, gorgeously structured in a beautiful titanium white that Darcy itched to photograph, her mind already imagining soft lighting and gauzy shadows against a dark background.

“Ms. Lewis?" 

“O-oh, just Darcy is fine.” She flushed, clearing her throat, and smiled tremulously at the woman. In heels, she practically towered over Darcy, who was wearing little more than flats. “… Yeah, I can’t believe it.”

Ms. Potts just smiled. “Thank you, by the way.” At Darcy’s confused expression, she clarified, “For the coffee. It… it really made my day.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” Darcy couldn’t stop the little ball of warmth that grew in her chest, smiling back. “I’m just glad it helped.”

“It did.” Ms. Potts’s expression softened a little, before she said, “Your shoot is happening today, if I’m not mistaken.”

Darcy laughed a little, the high from earlier coming back full force as she remembered the completely unexpected contest win. “Yeah, I’m heading up to the studio now, actually.”

“Excellent.” Ms. Potts grinned, the action making her classically beautiful face look a little impish and mischievous. “I’m quite excited to see what you have planned.”

Darcy smiled wider, her mind going back to her notes as she mentally ran through the designer collection she was photographing, but stopped short, her brain screeching to a halt as she remembered seeing a white gown – one that looked exactly like the one Ms. Potts was wearing only three feet away from her.

“Hold up.” Darcy’s eyes widened. “ _You’re_ the model for the shoot?”

“… I am, actually.” Her smile faded a little at Darcy’s incredulous tone. “Is there something wrong?”

“ _No_!” Ms. Potts blinked a little at the sudden outburst, and Darcy fumbled with her bag as she stammered, “N-no, of course not – I just, well… you’re _Pepper Potts_ , and I’m just… I mean, I thought I’d be shooting with someone more… amateurish, not so much – ” Darcy swallowed, and gestured a little frantically as she searched for the right word, “ – uh, you?”

At Ms. Potts’s raised eyebrows, Darcy felt a flush climb her cheeks. “Look, I just have a huge girl-crush on you, okay? Um, and you’re freaking gorgeous, and I kind of don’t really know how to talk to gorgeous women, and – ”

Darcy was cut off by the chime of the elevator, and as the doors opened Ms. Potts smiled down at her. “If it helps, I think you’re quite gorgeous too, Darcy.”

The trail of the dress dragged behind Ms. Potts as she exited the car, and Darcy nearly let the doors close as she stood there speechless, half from Ms. Potts’s parting comment and half from the high slit that went up the bottom of the dress, the glimpse of pale, long legs leaving her staring in hazy appreciation.

* * *

**+1.**

As they entered the elevator together, Darcy breathed out a sigh of relief, the adrenaline that had pumped through her system now long gone. Ms. Potts – or rather, “justPepper,” the model had said; Darcy had screeched internally and fangirled just a little bit in private when she’d escaped to the bathroom – was standing at her side, face clean of makeup and in a casual t-shirt and cutoff shorts, and cleared her throat, catching Darcy’s attention.

“You’re quite talented.” There was that grin again, and Darcy felt her lips curling up into a smile in return. “You’ll have a great career ahead of you.”

“I just work with what’s already there,” she said modestly, fiddling with the strap of her camera bag, and Pepper laughed a little.

“It’s not often you find people in the industry with that kind of humility nowadays.” She sighed at Darcy’s questioning look, and said, “You should meet some of the big-name fashion photographers – they tend to be bigger divas than the models sometimes.”

Darcy’s mouth twisted as she thought of her previous internship. Giulietta Nefaria, who went by Madame Masque, was one of the biggest names in fashion photography, but you couldn’t pay Darcy enough to work with the woman ever again – it had been a nightmare beyond compare. “Oh, I believe that.”

Pepper chuckled, exhaling slowly as she asked, “So, any plans for the rest of the day?”

“Erm, not really,” Darcy said slowly, privately cheering that she’d graduated from humiliating herself in front of an international supermodel to making small talk – baby steps right? “I’m probably going to just get some takeout, and binge-watch Netflix until I fall asleep.”

Pepper hummed. “Well, if you don’t mind putting off Netflix for a night, would you like to have dinner with me?”

Darcy paused, and asked slowly, “As in, a coworkers-grabbing-food-together, kind of dinner?”

“If you want.” Pepper’s voice was measured, and she didn’t break eye contact as she continued, “But I was thinking more along the lines of a date kind of dinner.”

“A date.” Darcy could feel her jaw beginning to drop, but caught herself in time, blinking a little in disbelief as she stopped to process Pepper’s words. “With _me_?”

“If you’re interested,” Pepper said carefully. “If not, then it can be a friendly sort of dinner, or no dinner at all if you’re uncomfortable.”

Darcy managed to shake her head, wondering if she was dreaming as she said dazedly, “Oh, no, no – a… _date_ dinner is good with me.” 

“Lovely.” Pepper grinned. “Any preferences?”

“Uh, I eat everything, basically.” Darcy felt faint. “Maybe something Asian?”

“Hmm, good choice.” Pepper cheerfully reached out and wrapped a slim hand around Darcy’s own, tugging her out of the elevator and into the lobby. “What do you think of Thai food?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Darcy/Johnny fic made me want to do a 5+1 fic, so here it is! Also ridiculously long, but whatever~~ 
> 
> And well, February is officially over, but I'm going to keep posting these prompts until I finish all thirty of them. Might as well, right?


	27. soul snatched (darcy x jane)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **body swap au** \+ star trek au, darcy lewis x jane foster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***Just to be safe: **Warning for mentions and descriptions of Alzheimer's/memory loss.**
> 
> So, I totally made up an alien race. Preesians can remove souls and transfer them to new bodies -- it's originally used to keep the souls of the elders alive, body snatchers kidnap travelers and foreigners to steal their bodies and use them to commit crimes. Or something like that. 
> 
> I don't know if something like that already exists, but I started writing this late and I can't really be bothered to look it up at the moment. 
> 
> Also, I left this one unresolved just for a touch of angst amongst all these HEA-esque endings in the series.

“So let me get this straight.” Darcy blinked at the reflection in the mirror in mild shock, Jane’s hazel eyes staring back at her. “We got nabbed by Preesian body snatchers, and _they put us back in the wrong bodies_?”

 “You done, Lewis?” Fury raised an eyebrow, not flinching in the least – and around her people looked like they were suppressing smiles and giggles. Darcy loved Jane, she really did, but the woman was a tiny thing that weighed no more than a hundred pounds soaking wet, and had the reputation of being so spastic when it came to anything not related to astrophysics. Jane being angry looked more like a tiny mouse throwing a tantrum, and unless you were an engineering cadet who worshiped the ground Jane Foster walked on, nobody really took her seriously outside of the engineering bay.

“No, I’m not.” Her frosty tone managed to carry through Jane’s soft voice, and Coulson stiffened at Fury’s side. He of all people knew what she was like when she got angry. “You had better turn this ship around and get them to fix this, otherwise you’re going to have no chief communications officer and no astrophysics engineer to boss around – because you all might find this hilarious, but the longer our souls inhabit the wrong bodies, the more memory we start to lose, until Jane and I are little more than brain dead vegetables in the med bay."

At her words, the entire command center fell silent, and Coulson’s face had paled to an ashen grey. Darcy spun around, spotting the team of navigation cadets gaping at her, and she snarled, “Turn this ship around. _Now_.”

“Do as she says,” she heard Fury say from behind her, and everyone jumped into motion, scrambling around in an effort to get the ship back to Preesar, and Darcy exhaled slowly as she felt the dull ache in her skull increase steadily, pulling from behind her ears forward like a rubber band being stretched too far. “How long, Lewis?”

“We were in comas for close to two weeks,” she murmured. “The minimization of brain activity kept us alive longer than normal. I’d say seven or eight days if we minimize brain usage – maybe longer if Bruce puts us into medical comas.”

Fury exhaled slowly. “Where’s Foster?”

“I slipped sleeping pills in her lunch,” Darcy said, unremorseful even at Coulson’s disapproving stare. “She’s started forgetting already – she woke up before me and worked through the pain, and now…” She shuddered. “She’s forgotten that we’re on the Helicarrier, where our cabin is… It’s hitting her too fast.”

“Stay in your rooms, Lewis.” Fury nodded at her, and Coulson hurried towards the control panels to bark more orders. “Don’t strain yourself. We can’t lose either of you.”

“Yes sir.” She stumbled as another wave of pain shot through her head, but waved off Fury’s outstretched hand. “I’m fine, I’m fine.”

She stumbled out into the corridor, and as the doors slid shut behind her she could feel it – names and places slipping away, becoming faint blurs, and Darcy grit her teeth as she headed back towards the cabin she shared with Jane.

* * *

Darcy sighed in relief as the doors to their cabin slid shut, and from the nest of blankets on their shared bed Jane poked her head up – or rather, her body sat up, and Darcy was treated to a rather literal representation of an ‘out-of-body experience’ as her blue eyes blinked back at her sleepily.

“Darcy?” It was even weirder to hear her own voice, different sounding than she remembered. “Why do you look like me?”

“We got body snatched, Janie.” Darcy sat on the bed slowly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “They put us back wrong, but Fury’s taking us back so they can fix it.”

“Preesians?” She watched the dark brows furrow, and it was odd to see such a Jane-like expression crossing her own face. “We got jumped, didn’t we.”

“Yeah.” Darcy opened the side drawer, popping in two pills to numb the pounding in her skull, and slipped under the blankets, sighing contently as Jane snuggled up next to her. Normally, Darcy was the little spoon, but being the big spoon wasn’t so bad either – Jane’s body fit together with hers better this way, and she sighed as Jane snuggled into the blankets.

“How long?” Jane asked quietly.

“For you? A week; maybe more, if we let Bruce put us under.” Darcy linked their hands together, sighing. “Working in engineering jump started it.”

“I didn’t know,” Jane whispered, and Darcy shook her head.

“Not your fault, Janie.” Darcy pressed a kiss to their joined hands. “Just take it easy, yeah? Don’t want you to forget about me.”

“I won’t.”

* * *

“Do you remember when we met?”

Darcy closed her eyes. “We’re not supposed to be recalling memories, Jane. It makes – “

“It makes us fade faster, I know.” Jane fidgeted with one of the few paper-bound books they brought onboard, her fingers toying with the edge of a worn page. Greek mythology had always been one of Jane’s favorites. “But do you?”

“Of course.” Darcy swallowed, trying to actively clear her mind, but it didn’t work – the memory came back, perhaps not full force the way it normally did, but stronger than other things that had already slipped away. “You needed help doing research, and I was the only one who replied to your ad in the Academy notices."

“And we spent the first three months driving each other crazy,” Jane said with a wistful smile, and she laughed a little. “What do you think would’ve happened if Stark hadn’t locked us up in that closet?”

“He probably would’ve hacked the housing lottery to put us in the same dorm room.” Darcy’s lips curled up, even as the memory of Tony’s likeness diminished to a blur of dark hair and a glowing blue circle in his chest. “Hypocrite though – he still hasn’t gotten the balls to ask Steve out.”

“Still?” Darcy tossed her tablet to Jane, who read the message with a grin. “And he called _us_ oblivious.”

“At least he’s not thinking with his dick this time.” Darcy squinted a little, the names of Tony’s past paramours fading into a blankness that grew steadily in her head, like a white fog rolling into her library of memories. “… I can’t remember what he looks like anymore.”

Jane smiled sadly. “All that’s left of Erik is blue eyes and a lack pants.” Darcy laughed, the words jogging something in her head, but she hadn’t been as close to Erik as Jane was, and the man had been reduced to mentions of a name or words on a page. She couldn’t remember even meeting him, though she must have.

At Jane’s suddenly blank-eyed stare, Darcy smacked her hand against the table, the sound jolting Jane from her thoughts, and when Jane’s face crumpled Darcy surged forward.

“I can’t remember their names,” Jane whispered into Darcy’s sweater, fingers clutching the knitted weave. “My parents. Or their faces, or their voices.”

“I can’t remember mine either.” Surprisingly, the things that Darcy knew like the back of her hand – the smell of morning dew on the lawn of her childhood home, the taste of her mother’s cherry pie, the smiles of her brothers and parents – were the first ones to go. There was nothing there, besides the basic understanding that she _had_ to have parents to be born into the world, but all else was long gone. “But they’ll come back, Janie, don’t worry.”

“How long?” Darcy glanced at her watch, her eyes slipping shut as he held back her sigh. Less than a few days had passed, but Jane couldn’t help but burn through her memories like single-use matches. The woman was a bona fide genius, but so scatterbrained that her mind could jump from topic to topic, erasing every stray thought or flickering memory as it passed through Jane’s mind.

Darcy supposed that she was lucky Jane still retained her speaking abilities, but she knew it was a matter of time before Jane would start forgetting speech and fine motor skills.

“Don’t worry about it.” Darcy pulled Jane in a little closer. "We're gonna be fine."

* * *

“Dee?” Darcy – _was_ her name Darcy? Or was it just Dee, like Jay said – turned her head, blinking at the woman lying by her side, and her eyes widened at Jay’s pain-filled expression.

“Don’t fight it, Jay,” Dee said softly, pushing the pain relief medicine against Jay’s pale mouth, and the woman accepted both, dry swallowing with little more than a a grimace. Dee felt a sudden wave of affection wash over her, even as it was an odd feeling. “You’re getting worse.”

“Dee, where are we?”

She pressed her lips to Jay’s forehead. “I don’t know.” She looked around the room, decorated with small knick-knacks and books displayed proudly on each shelf, and a feeling of warmth and comfort radiated from… that radiated from – “Somewhere safe,” Dee said softly, and she lay down net to Jay.

“Don’t leave?”

Dee smiled, and a glimpse of the last, lingering memories flickered across her vision. It was one of the few things left, her first meeting with Jay, and she wasn’t going to waste it, saving it just so she could savor the memory for a little while longer.  “I won’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Or something. I don't know what my brain was thinking here :/


	28. inverse edda (darcy x loki)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **genderbend au** \+ role reversal au, darcy lewis x loki

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, so late, but I had so much trouble writing Asgardian!male!Darcy, that I had to put this on the backburner for a few days. Not going to say it'll make much sense, and Darcy might be a little OOC, but I have no idea why female!Loki is so much easier to write. Sigh...
> 
> Also, notes on this AU: Jane is the crown princess of Asgard, male!Darcy is her champion/companion, female!Loki is a history professor specializing in ancient Germanic tribes from Scandinavia, and Thor is an athlete who is smarter than he looks. Asgard had a Thor/Loki in the past, but they are part of Aesir legend, long gone from the present. 
> 
> My brain tried, it really did.

“It was my idea for Jane to go to Nidavellir.” Darcy pushed Jane behind him, his lip curling up when the Allfather sneered at the action, and he refused to kneel as he said, “The princess has expressed her desire to study the stars and moons of different realms. I simply did my duty as her sworn champion, and endeavored to make those wishes reality.”

“You think me a fool, boy?” The Allfather was little more than a supremacist bigot as far as Darcy was concerned, and had never hid his dislike of Darcy’s origins as a bastard child, nor his halfblood heritage. Aesir-Midgardian unions were unheard of, but Darcy was the result of an illicit tryst between a foolish young noble and a mortal woman – and despite the fact that his bearer had enough semblance of a conscious to bring him to Asgard, the Allfather had more or less denounced his existence entirely until Jane had declared him her champion. At that point, the mild aversion turned to blatant dislike.

Darcy didn’t flinch, and Jane stepped around him, pleading. “Father – ”

“Silence!” Jane’s eyes lit up in fury as her voice cut short, silenced by a spell, and the Allfather turned to Darcy with a gleam of satisfaction in his expression. “You are hereby banished, Darcy Valisson, to suffer the mortal coil that should have been yours at birth – never to return to Asgard for the rest of your living days.”

The last thing Darcy saw before being engulfed in the Bifrost was Jane’s fierce expression glittering through the beams of light, her mouth forming the words of a vow.

_“I will come for you.”_

He landed flat on his back, without sword, shield, or staff, and as he watched the glittering rainbow of light fade into the night sky Darcy stared up at the heavens with a humorless smile.

“By your leave, your highness,” he whispered mockingly, rising to his feet and staring at the sky in defiance. 

The clouds above him rumbled as Darcy stepped out of the circle of runes, heading north for the twinkling lights of a village in the distance.

* * *

“You said there was a funnel of light?” Loki scanned the photos, her eyes focused on the images of a massive circular runic array sitting in the New Mexico desert, pristine as if they’d been drawn yesterday.

“Yes, with some unusual aurora effects – the range of color was a full spectrum, not just a single color.” Agent Coulson smiled patiently, the gesture meant to be disarming, and while Thor had been naïve enough to take the man’s word Loki was of a different breed. 

“It’s a transportation array,” she said finally, leaving her conclusions vague intentionally as she continued and lied straight through her teeth. “For what or from where I do not know.”  

“You sure?” Coulson’s gaze flickered to something assessing, something searching, but Loki kept her face impassive, and the man nodded his acquiescence. “Thank you for your cooperation Professor. Please keep us updated on any further developments you might come across.”

“I will.” The white lie came as easy as breathing, “Goodbye, Agent Coulson.” The video chat window went dark, but Loki closed the laptop firmly, disconnecting the charger cord and removing the battery for safe measure.

“You don’t think it’s excessive, Loki?” Thor hovered at her shoulder, his hand settling on her arm, but it was there for less than a second before Loki shrugged it off. “They mean us no harm, sister.”

“You were always the more gullible one, Thor,” she scoffed, ignoring the flash of hurt that crossed Thor’s face, and stuffed the printed photos in her purse, striding out of her office as he followed at her heels. She stepped out into the wet London afternoon, ducking into the collar of her coat as she ran to her car, and suppressed a scowl as Thor caught up, holding an umbrella over her head as she fumbled with her keys.

“You have that look on your face,” he said softly, and Loki rolled her eyes as she finally got the car door open, not managing to climb in fast enough to lock the doors as Thor rounded the car and got into the passenger seat. As she pulled out of the parking lot he continued, “The one that you get when you find a mystery that needs solving.”

“There have only been seven recorded instances of transportation arrays surfacing in any histories, Thor.” Loki didn’t like her brother, perhaps even to the point of hating him, but the sheer possibility of what awaited in that New Mexico desert softened her temper enough to explain. “And each instance coincided with the appearance or disappearance of beings heralded as gods.”

“You think a god appeared in New Mexico.” Thor looked conflicted, but then said, “Scandinavian mythology, then? The markings look like Elder Futhark." 

“Since when do you study runes?” Thor might not have chosen to pursue the scholarly interests that had always captivated Loki, but despite being an athlete Loki could grudgingly admit that Thor was smart – far smarter than he let on to anyone other than Loki herself.

Thor shrugged. “I do pay attention to your achievements, Loki – your papers help the time pass more quickly during flights.”

Loki just hummed. She thought back to the words carved into the dry, caking dirt of the desert, and wondered if she was imagining things when she translated one of the inscriptions into ‘ _darcy’_  – her first thought was that somehow Pride and Prejudice had managed to reach even the realms of the gods, but she let the idea go as quickly as it had come.

Translation mistakes happened to everyone, even amongst learned scholars such as herself. She took it to mean she needed to brush up on her vocabulary. 

* * *

Midgard looked…  _old_ , if there was any other way of saying it. He had been little more than six when he was whisked away, but he remembered green meadows and lush forests and lakes sparking like crystal in the shining noon sun. Here, in the little place Midgardians called Puente Antiguo, everything was dry and brown, shriveled and small from a harsh sun and little water.

Darcy had always been one to adapt quickly. Chivalry, tolerance, graciousness cost one nothing, and although he was taller and younger than most of the town’s wary inhabitants, within a week he had been accepted into the fold of the little town. He found work in an eating establishment called Mabel’s Diner, and slept on a lumpy recliner in the back room, but the woman who owned the little shop was kind and warm, and he had food and clothes and shelter. He knew better than to complain – his life prior to becoming Jane’s companion was a far cry from the luxury and splendor found in the Allfather’s palace halls.

And three weeks after his exile,  _she_  stepped into the little diner.

“I'd like steak and eggs, with coffee, please,” her blond-haired companion said cheerfully, and Darcy couldn’t help but return the man’s smile. He figured that the pair were courting, which was a pity as far as he was concerned – the woman was  _beautiful_ – but there was no law against looking.

“And for you, milady?” The man gave her an odd look, but the woman snorted, rolling her eyes and pushing the menu away.

“Tea and the California omelet,” the dark-haired woman said brusquely, not bothering to even look up from the photos scattered across the table, and Darcy couldn’t bite back a frown. “As you wish,” he murmured. “Though it pays to show respect to those who humble themselves to serve you, milady." 

Darcy shook his head, striding towards the kitchens and ignoring the woman’s narrowed glare, and entered the food order on the primitive little machine at the counter. As Mabel slid a tray over to him, Darcy muttered, “Such a pity that a lovely face is made ugly through a sour temperament. Has courtesy become so obsolete in this realm?”

“Pay her no mind.” Mabel patted his hand, smiling consolingly. “It’s not everyday we come across a nice young man like you, Darcy.”

“I suppose.” The praise was still a novel experience, coming from complete strangers, and he smiled back, bright and warm. Midgardians were far more accepting than the Aesir, far more accepting of change than Asgardians themselves, but perhaps it had to do with their ephemerality – there was a most amusing phrase he had heard, an acronym for the saying ‘you only live once,’ and he supposed it was the reason Midgardians were so free and open with themselves.

Still, he glanced back at the green eyed woman sitting at the table, scribbling furiously in a journal as she studied the photographs, and Darcy wondered why the woman was so interested in the Bifrost circle.

* * *

“Imbecile,” Loki muttered, casting a withering glance at the man waiting tables. She was so used to intimidating others that having someone talk back was somewhat of a novelty, enough so that Thor seemed to take it upon himself to somehow try and make friends with the man.

Stupid idiot.

She glanced up at him through her lashes though, a part of her curious how someone like him ended up in a backwater town in the middle of New Mexico. He was cultured, probably from Europe – his accent was more lilting than her English one, from the Northern countries if she had to wager, and he was pale where everyone else in this godforsaken town was either sunburnt red or tanned a dusty brown like the desert around them, wrinkled and withered from the blazing sun. She could admit that he was handsome though – wide shoulders, strong hips, with the easy grace of a fighter and a spark of mischief in his blue eyes, and oak-colored hair that fell to his shoulders –

“You watch him so intently, Loki.” She sputtered; startled by Thor’s sudden observation, and the oaf had the  _gall_  to grin at her wickedly. “He is handsome, is he not?”

“He’s unremarkable,” she sniffed, but a glance back at his form told her otherwise. It wasn’t just the fact that the man was good-looking – it was the fact that he radiated an aura of muted power and calm that washed over her every time he passed, filling her lungs with something that made her want to  _know_  him. “You seem to be interested, go ahead.”

“He isn’t interested in me, sister.” Thor didn’t react to her jibe, instead letting the smile on his face grow as he leaned in and whispered, “He hasn’t taken his eyes off you since our arrival, Loki.”

Her eyes snapped up, instinct guiding her gaze, and she met calm blue eyes that flickered a little in surprise, but didn’t turn away. There was a touch of disappointment in his eyes, something that made her feel small, and she hated it, sitting up straighter as she sent him a glare before turning back to her work. “Stop ogling the help, you idiot, and help me copy down these runes.”

“Pot, meet kettle.”  Thor held his hands up in surrender when she growled lowly, but the chuckle remained for the rest of the day, the little smile lingering on his lips.

* * *

Thor opened the door to his rooms, a smile lighting his features when he saw Darcy standing in the hall. "Come in, come in!" 

"My thanks." Darcy gingerly stepped around the stack of fallen stack of books scattered near the entrance, standing in a clear patch of floor as she surveyed the so-called 'hotel room.'

"I don't remember requesting turndown service." Darcy frowned as Loki sneered at her, emerging from a side door in a dressing gown that fell over her figure softly, a tantalizing view of satin against pale skin, and Darcy fought to keep his face impassive. In the few weeks since Loki and Thor had swept into town, Darcy had seen them at the diner nearly every day, his curiosity about the woman growing with every sighting – but he knew better than to take his chances.

"Your brother invited me." Loki threw Thor a withering glare, sniffing as she sat at the little desk by a window; her back pointedly turned towards him, scribbling into parchment. 

Darcy rolled his eyes at Loki's dismissal, and turned to Thor. “You said you wished to meet with me?” 

Thor cast a disapproving look in Loki’s direction. “Loki is looking for a runic array in the desert,” he said slowly, an image of the Bifrost circle inscribed on the paper in his hands, and Thor met Darcy’s eyes squarely as he asked, his voice a bare murmur against Loki’s mutterings, “You know where it is, don’t you?”

His first instinct was to say no, but then Darcy looked at Thor, really  _looked_ , and saw the crescent of gold streaking through the rings of blue around the man’s pupils. Darcy inhaled sharply, disbelief coloring his voice as he asked lowly, “How did you know?" 

Thor smiled, fond and sad. “You walk the way our mother once did,” he said quietly. “A warrior, waiting her whole life to go and wage wars and win battles.”

Darcy held his breath. “You are of Asgard?”

“No – a half-blood, born of an exiled Valkyrie.” Thor shook his head, and Darcy’s jaw dropped a little in surprise. “Father is a mortal.” 

“We are alike, then.” Thor blinked a little in confusion, Darcy laughed wryly. “Though it was my father, who was of the royal court – and he washed his hands of me the moment I stepped foot on the Bifrost.” Despite the harsh words, Darcy's voice was measured and even – he'd had years to come to terms with his sire's lack of interest – but Darcy had always been a good liar.

“My apologies,” Thor murmured, but he didn’t miss the spark in the blonde man’s eye. “… the Bifrost, then; it’s real?”

Darcy raised an eyebrow. “You know of it?" 

“A bridge that spans realms, made of stardust and pure light -- watched over by a Guardian in golden armor.” Thor looked wistful. “It was my favorite story as a child.”

“It brought me here,” Darcy confirmed, and Thor smiled. 

“Loki would be thrilled.” He chanced a look to the woman, tenderness and sadness in his eyes, and then Darcy knew.

“She does not know, does she?” Darcy pursed his lips. “Or perhaps she was never told?”

Thor shook his head. “Mother always wanted a daughter, but my father found her abandoned on the steps of a church one night,” he said softly. “She is as mortal as any other human.”

“I see.” Darcy hummed, biting his lip. “You _could_ return to Asgard, you know – it is your birthright, half-blood or not.”

“And what, leave Loki behind?” Thor shook his head sadly. “No, she would die alone of bitterness and resentment, hating me for taking a chance she would quite literally kill for.”

“You stay for her?” Darcy frowned, studying Loki’s form for a moment, and even as the words left his mouth he regretted the harsh words as he said, “She insults you, ridicules you, dismisses you – what obligation towards her are you looking to fulfill?”

“A familial one.” Thor’s smile was somewhat brittle as he said lowly, “Loki is family, adopted or not – and I won’t tarnish her memory of Mother that way.”

Thor looked sad for a moment, before he smirked, lips tugging up into a grin. “But she doesn’t need to know about Mother and I – all she needs to know is about you.”

* * *

Her first, instinctual reaction was complete disbelief. Good looks aside, the man was completely crazy. 

“What a load of shit.” Loki snorted, flicking her hair over her shoulder impatiently.

“I’m afraid I don’t have my armor with me, milady,” Darcy said dryly, “But I give you my word.”

He could see Thor blink impassively as Loki spat cruelly, “Perhaps you’ve hit your head too many times,  _brother_." 

“You judge things too harshly, Loki,” Thor said, but Loki scoffed.

“You think I’m foolish enough to believe whatever stupid lies your new friend has told you?” Loki shot Darcy a glare. “He’s probably one of Coulson’s people, sent to spy on our progress.”

Darcy sniffed. “I assure you, I have never met a Son of Coul, either on Midgard or Asgard.”

Loki turned to Thor, ignoring Darcy’s indignant response as she hissed, “I cannot believe you’re be so _stupid_ – ”

Darcy interrupted, “Is this meant to be a summoning array?”

Loki stopped short, bristling when she saw the papers in Darcy’s hands, and stalked over, snatching them from his hands. “You _dare_ – " 

“Linking Hagalaz with Sowilo is a step away from opening a path to Muspellheim – and Fire Giants are not as pleasant as I am,” Darcy said baldly, and Loki’s mouth snapped shut as Darcy took a pencil and paper from the desk and began redrawing the circle in deft strokes. Thor shuffled closer, and brother and sister watched spellbound as the runic array materialized under their very eyes as Darcy’s commentary continued.

“Lagaz is more stable – and inscribe Eihwaz with Berkanan to ground the array and stay within the realm when you transport. Using Ansuz means the array will only summon an Aesir – switch it to Mannez, and you can apply it to Midgardians, or Ehwaz for beasts. And Raido should be both your grounding rune and ending rune– lest you want to appear exactly where you started.”

Darcy slid the paper over, watching in bemusement as Loki stared down at the drawing in disbelief. It had taken her weeks to come up with her array – weeks of research, painstakingly tracing out the runes and lines, and then this… this _man_ , had the means to correct her work and redraw it in a matter of minutes?

“Incredible,” Thor breathed, awestruck, and Loki gritted her teeth as she looked up at Darcy’s expectant expression.

“It has to be a fluke,” Loki said, shoving the paper back at him. “Do it again. An elemental array.”

“As you wish.” Darcy shrugged. “Would you like a single affinity, dual, or pure elemental?" 

“Pure elemental.” Loki hid her smug grin – no such array even existed, and she’d prove him a fake.

Except, apparently it did – Loki had just never seen it before. And staring at the simple lines, fire and water and earth and air woven together in a seamless filigree of runic knots and links, she felt her breath leave her lungs as _hope_ grew in her stomach. It was perfect – balanced, interlayered, with a stark and simple beauty that Loki had only ever seen in the stone carving photographs she had in her copy of _Poetic Edda_.

She looked up, her eyes meeting Darcy’s, and she asked shakily, “Where is it?”

* * *

Darcy face was impassive as he slowed to a stop, the light of the lamp he held shining on the charred runes burnt into the dirt. At his side, Loki sucked in a sharp breath, eyes wide, and Thor exhaled slowly.

“Wow,” she whispered, and Darcy glanced over at the woman standing at his side. Skin bathed in warm light, green eyes large and luminous, turned dark against the night sky – she looked spellbound, and Darcy pushed down the pulse of want that thrummed through his chest.

“This is Eihwaz,” Darcy said, stepping over the rune carefully. “It links the Bifrost with the World Tree and the Nine Realms, and Ansuz and Mannez on either side.”

“For Aesir and humans?” Thor asked, and Darcy smiled a little at his eager enthusiasm. “Doesn’t that interfere?”

“In transport arrays, they represent realms, not species,” he said. “They are sublinks to Raido and Naudiz, arrayed around the central rune with spells inscribed in the outer rings for protection, safe travel, wealth and health – Wunjo, Gebo, Fehu, Othala – and the traveler’s name makes the outermost ring.” He spotted something at the edge of her vision, half-lit by the light, and his breath caught.

Darcy knelt down, tracing the runic letters that spelled out his name, and his fingers lingered on the words that followed. “ _Darcy Valisson, exiled from Asgard for the remainder of his days_ ,” he heard Loki whisper, and Darcy looked up to see Loki staring down at him with an unidentifiable expression. “You _are_ an Aesir.”

“ _Was_ ,” Darcy said with a twisted smile, standing and turning away. “Not anymore." 

Loki made to follow him, but Thor pulled her back, murmuring something that caused Loki to scowl but look back at Darcy in what looked like empathy. Darcy breathed slowly, staring out into the faint horizon of the mountains against an equally dark sky, and looked up at the cloudless sky and into the stars.

“You should see this, Jane,” he whispered, and the sky opened up above him.

* * *

It was everything Loki thought it would be and more – fractals of light bursting and shimmering in a glowing pillar that stretched from ground to sky – like the light of a supernova exploding right before her eyes.

The runes were smoking, edges glowing red with embers and charcoal as a figure stepped out of the light – a woman, of all things, tiny and petite, but with a ferocious scowl that made even Loki flinch, her arms laden with armor and weapons. She heard Thor inhale sharply, choking on his own breath – and when she glanced at him he was staring at the woman with the lights of the stars reflected in his eyes, stunned and breathless.

“ _Jane_!” Darcy barreled past her, sprinting forward, and the golden armor fell to the dirt as the woman all but threw herself at the man, an action that made Loki’s chest close up tight, her stomach burning in jealousy.

“Darcy!” The woman pulled back, breathing harshly as she leant her forehead against his in an intimate gesture, and Loki suddenly wanted to smack the woman, Aesir or not.  “Come, we don’t have much time!”

“Time for what?” The woman grinned sheepishly, making Darcy frown and set her down. “Jane.”

“I stole Erik’s sword,” she said very quickly, and Darcy groaned as she continued, “And Ian challenged him to a spar, but he won’t last very long – we must hurry, Darcy! I have your armor, and provisions...” She began tugging him forward, towards the Bifrost light, and Loki stepped forward with a growl, ready to intervene even as Thor grabbed her arm in warning.

“And then what?” He dug his heels into the dirt, stopping Jane in her tracks. “Erik is the Guardian – once he sees that I am no longer on Midgard, he’ll be honor-bound to tell the Allfather. I’ll be punished far more harshly, you know that.”

“So I’m supposed to just leave you here?” ‘Jane’ pulled back, her expression hurt, and bit out, “Let you die on Midgard, mortal and alone?”

“He’s not alone.” Loki stepped forward, staring fiercely at the petite brunette, who blinked a little. Thor quickly came forward as well, his eyes still fixed on the brunette, and with a touch of amusement she watched as the woman’s eyes looked over her brother dismissively, then doubled back in muted shock.

“And who are you, then?” Loki raised an eyebrow at the prickly tone, only for Thor to come forward, drawing the woman’s attention like a moth to a light.

“We are friends of Darcy, milady,” he said softly, stretching out a hand in offering. When the brunette accepted, her face flushed violently as Thor – _Thor_ , of all people! – bowed gallantly over her hand, lips hovering over the woman’s skin before drawing away with a lingering caress. “I am Thor, and this is my sister Loki.”

Jane hummed. “You are named for our legends,” she said, despite the blush on her face, and Loki hid her amusement, as this ‘Jane’ looked Thor up and down with poorly suppressed approval. “… Your parents chose well.”

“Indeed.” Thor smiled crookedly. “You honor us with your presence.”

* * *

Darcy rolled his eyes, nudging Jane and drawing her attention away from Thor. “Jane, you must go,” he said softly. “I will be alright. I have friends here – ”

“You’d have me return and surround myself with the idiots of the court, _and_ lose you too?” Jane shook her head, glaring momentarily at the cloud-filled sky, but she bit her lip as her eyes shone with a gleam that spelled nothing but trouble. 

“Oh, no.” Darcy shook his head, taking a wary step back. “You have that look – " 

“Well then perhaps I should just stay here,” she said simply, and Darcy didn’t miss the quick glance to her side.

“I don’t think – ”

“You are welcome to stay for as long as you wish,” Thor jumped in, a grin stretched across his face, and Jane nodded faintly before looking up at the sky, lighting cracking in what felt like a call.

Darcy looked up as well, only in panic. “Wait, Jane – !”

“Close the Bifrost, Erik!” she shouted up to the sky, and despite the roll of thunder that was undoubtedly the Allfather’s doing, the light bridge began to dissipate until all that was left was the smoking runes and the lingering clouds. She turned to Thor, smiling as she held out a hand. “Will you assist me, Lord Thor?”

“The Allfather is going to kill me,” Darcy muttered, as Thor helped Jane load Darcy's armor and weaponry into the back of the truck, and Loki hummed.

“You’re mortal now, in case you forgot,” Loki scoffed, but there was no real heat in her tone. “We’re all going to die eventually anyways, so what?" 

Darcy rolled his eyes, shooting Loki an exasperated look. “Because I like living, perhaps?”

“Life is overrated,” Loki muttered, and Darcy just stared at her for a heartbeat before chuckling, sending chills running down her spine. That long throat – Loki was filled with the sudden urge to lick it, bite at the pulse point and –

“You are an enigma, Lady Loki,” Darcy mused, and even though she made a face at the name, part of her was secretly pleased. He grinned at her one last time, his heart lighter as he said, “I look forward to solving the mysteries you hold.”

“Try me,” she snorted, and his responding smile was promising and playful as she swept past him, sauntering towards the truck.

“I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this one beat out the Darcy/Johnny one for the longest prompt. I should probably impose a word limit the next time I start another challenge...


	29. scent shroud (darcy x clint x bobbi)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **clothes sharing au** \+ alpha/beta/omega dynamics, darcy lewis x clint barton x bobbi morse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really don't know much about writing A/B/O verse, but what I've written is literally taking bits that I've read from other stories. Literally, I know nothing. So really, this probably isn't a true A/B/O verse fic, but oh well. 
> 
> Also, a note about offerings. There's a number of them, which range from friendship to courtship to bonding, but I'd imagine that in a world where something like human rationality will conflict with animal instinct, society (doing what society does best) would've created a manner of "civilizing" instincts like forming packs/mating/etc. Trading personal effects saturated with one's scent is the most common way of doing this - clothing, being directly in contact with one's body and scent, is already somewhat indicative of pursuing a more intimate relationship. 
> 
> So tl;dr - friendship offers could be anything, courtship offers are normally clothing like sweaters or jackets, and bonding offers would be something like a scarf or jewelry.

Today was the worst day ever.

When she got out from work earlier that afternoon, all Darcy wanted to do was sit in the park and enjoy her cup of over-priced hipster coffee. _That was it_.

Instead, there were a bunch of HYDRA assholes trying to snatch her up as she ran through Midtown, dodging in between the rush hour crowd as people flooded the streets.

She even sacrificed her poor coffee, dumping it on a lucky goon who’d managed to catch her by the hair – worth the loss, if the dude’s pain-filled scream inflicted via her large extra-hot double shot wet cappuccino was any indication, but a loss that Darcy mourned nonetheless. That shit cost her six dollars, but Darcy knew that her coffee was a small price to pay. 

It was bad enough that HYDRA was after her, but coupled with the fact that she was an Omega? She grew up hearing horror stories on the news and online, and she had no desire to stay around long enough to find out what sick and twisted plans HYDRA had in store for her. 

But still. _Six fucking dollars_. 

And on top of it all, she was _just_ restarting her hormone suppressants. Last month’s crisis was a flock of chimeras prowling through New York and terrorizing people, and she’d taken a couple of nasty gashes from a particularly persistent one trying to get into her subway car. Although, getting an honorary Medal of Valor from the NYPD was a lovely, if unexpected, side benefit. Granted, she had tasered the cat just as it was trying to eat an injured police officer, but if they misconstrued her poor attempts to protect her roast beef sandwich as fighting off the chimera, then who was she to correct them?

… but back to the problem. Long story short, she was on antibiotics for close to three weeks, had to sit through one of her heats, and had just took her first suppressant pill that morning – the once overwhelming mix of scents was now a little more bearable, but she was _not_ mentally equipped to deal with HYDRA on top of leering Alphas eyeing her as she ran past.

Swinging her bag unceremoniously into the face of another dude who took a swipe at her, she barreled down Fifth Avenue, shoving her way between indignant shoppers and knocking over oblivious tourists standing in the middle of the sidewalk. Unmindful of the crowd gathered at the intersection, Darcy shoved her way out into the street, skittering between taxis and yelling a quick, “Sorry!” over her shoulder as the cars jolted to a sudden stop, drivers yelling muffled obscenities through their windshields.

Lungs burning, Darcy ducked into a bank entrance carved into the side of a building, a niche that was shadowed and tucked away from the sidewalk. Peering over the edge, she watched in relief as a bunch of HYDRA thugs with poorly concealed weapons stalked past her hiding place, and she sighed in relief, only to stiffen as the subtle, oddly familiar scent of a Beta filled the air.

“You look like you could use some help,” a low voice said from behind her, and immediately Darcy spun on her heel and swung her bag into the stranger’s face. 

“Ow, shit!” The guy took a few careful steps back, wincing as he rubbed at his nose. Darcy was half-impressed, half-wary at the lack of response – hey, it was a really heavy bag, alright? – but she peered a little closer into the shadows, trying to see the man’s face. “Do you always assault strangers?”

“Creepy ones, yeah,” she said bluntly, holding her bag up defensively, wishing for the hundredth time that she hadn’t left her taser in her shitty apartment. “Who the hell are you?”

“The name’s Clint, I’m a friend of a friend.”

She snorted, still wary. “Can you _be_ any more vague?”

“SHIELD, if that clears things up?” He stepped out of the darkness a little, and Darcy was surprised when she recognized his face.

“Jack-booted thug number 5!” she said in astonishment, and on his end Clint looked a little amused. “I thought you smelled familiar.” Her eyes fell down to his arms, and yep – it was hard to forget arms like those, flexing under the fabric of his sweater. The man’s biceps were _shrine_ -worthy.  

“Uh, I’d really just prefer Clint,” he said, scratching the back of his head with a somewhat puzzled look, but it shifted as a delighted smirk stretched across his face. “… you remember my smell?”

Darcy blushed, but her eyes narrowed as the events from the past year flickered across her eyes. “… I thought SHIELD was dead.”

“Eh.” He shrugged, taking her abrupt change in topic in stride. “Not really. We just want people to think we’re dead.”

She relaxed minutely, but shot back, “And how do I know you’re not part of the HYDRA goon squad trying to take me back to their leader?”

“ ‘Cause I’m not trying to drag you off to become a HYDRA brood mare, maybe?”

At the callous words, Darcy couldn’t stop her flinch as the muted spike of fear betrayed her bravado, and his carefree expression melted into remorse. “Shit, I’m sorry – ”

“Clint.” Her head swiveled to pinpoint a silhouette even further behind Clint, and Darcy could only make out light hair and a slim form, as the rest of her was hidden by the darkness. “That was uncalled for.” The woman’s voice was low and smooth, but the hint of Alpha seeping through her commanding tone made the hairs on the back of Darcy’s neck stand upright, her back arching as shivers ran down her spine.

“… Sorry, Lewis.” Clint sighed, rubbing his neck as he hunched in deference to the female Alpha – _his_ Alpha, if his attitude was any indication – and his hesitant smile was apologetic. Absently, Darcy wondered if they had a third, wondered what it’d be like to _be_ their third – and fought down the heat that threatened to flood her cheeks at her stray thoughts.

Clint looked appropriately remorseful, but the woman scoffed, stepping forward to punch him in the shoulder. “Aww, Bobbi – ”

“Jackass. Are you _trying_ to run her off?” she asked exasperatedly, and Darcy blinked in surprise as light fell on the woman’s face. She was gorgeous, cat-like eyes lazily sweeping over Darcy’s form, and Darcy fought the urge to stand up straighter at her perusal. The woman was all long lines, possessing a feline grace that characterized most female Alphas, and Darcy all of a sudden felt dwarfed next to her.

“Sorry, he can be an idiot.” Clint made an indignant noise as the woman’s predatory look broke into an open smile.  “Lewis, right? Coulson told us to look for you.”

“Coulson?” The name rung a bell. “You mean the iPod thief?”

Clint snorted. “You’re never going to let that go.”

“Never,” Darcy swore, but she frowned. “I thought he died.”

“Well, sort of.”

Darcy raised an eyebrow when nothing more was offered. “Looks like ambiguity is a common thread with SHIELD nowadays.”

“Well given the circumstances…” They exchanged looks, silently communicating through eyebrows twitches, and Clint shrugged. “Anyways – Bobbi meet Darcy, Darcy meet Bobbi.”

“A pleasure.” Bobbi’s smile widened. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Darcy shivered a little at the promise lingering in her voice, and nearly squeaked as both Clint and Bobbi’s eyes darkened a little at her response. “… Good things, I hope?”

“Much better in person,” she smirked, and Darcy couldn’t stop the flush that rose high and fast on her cheeks.

“Stop teasin’ her,” Clint chuckled. “Court her all you want when we get to the Tower.”

Looked like there wasn’t a third after all.

“Tower?” Darcy repeated, tucking that little fact away for later review. “I thought SHIELD and the Avengers didn’t get along so well.”

They shot her both wary, questioning looks, and Darcy huffed. “I’m a polisci major. You really think I didn’t read everything that flooded the Internet?”

“No, that just makes things a lot easier.” Bobbi just smiled. “SHIELD’s hiding under the umbrella of Stark Industries, but Coulson is navigating from SHIELD’s new HQ.”  

Darcy raised an eyebrow. “You mean he got fed up with Tony Stark and escaped as fast as possible?”

“Sounds about right,” Clint chortled, and Bobbi’s eyes shone with mirth as Darcy giggled. “But save the chit-chat for the car ride, yeah? We’re on a tight schedule.”

“Ah.” Right. Wrapped up in conversation with a very nice Beta and a lovely Alpha, Darcy had just about forgotten that a bunch of HYDRA agents were trying to snatch her up.

Bobbi looked amused, but asked, “You got any spare clothes in that giant bag of yours?”

Glancing down at the _normal_ -sized – okay, maybe it was a little bigger than normal; she liked to be prepared, okay? – messenger bag she’d had since high school, Darcy shook her head. “Unless you want me to run around in yesterday’s sports bra and shorts from the gym…”

“That’ll just make it easier for them to track your scent,” Clint cut in, shaking his head. Eyeing her clinically, he shrugged off his sweater, leaving him in a tight black vest that had Darcy gaping at his exposed arms.

Again – _shrine_ -worthy.

“Start stripping, Lewis,” Clint said dryly, his mouth tilted up in amusement at her blatant admiration, and as he held the sweater out towards her he very deliberately flexed. Darcy flushed, and Clint’s smirk just widened until Bobbi slapped him upside the head.

“Oi, quit it Barton,” Bobbi snapped, and then parroted his earlier words. “Court her all you want when we get to the Tower.”

“Isn’t that on you, Alpha?” Clint muttered back, his voice holding a note of challenge, but he held his hands up when Bobbi shot him a look.

Darcy blinked, looking between the two as her brain tried to process their words. They couldn’t possibly be talking about her.

Right?

“Hold up, take these too.” Darcy nearly had an aneurysm when the taller woman toed off the combat boots she was wearing, peeling off the leggings to reveal the lower half of a skin-tight leather cat-suit underneath. Darcy sputtered when the bunched up fabric was dumped into her arms, the heady scent of Alpha pheromones saturated in the fabric mixing with the subtle notes of Clint’s Beta scent from the sweater, making Darcy’s head spin.

“Our scents should be able to cover you until we reach the Tower,” Bobbi said calmly, as if the Alpha _hadn’t_ just made a courtship offering. Darcy gaped, looking in bewilderment between the two, and just stood there in stunned silence for so long that Clint took pity on her.

“If it makes you feel better, you can reject it first,” Clint said in understanding. “We’re not going to hold anything against you if you do, but you’re still gonna have to put those on at some point.”

“Standard SHIELD protocol states that any offerings made during or under the influence of a mission can be rendered obsolete when the mission is terminated.” Bobbi smiled, the gesture not really reaching her eyes. Darcy thought she might’ve been imagining the flicker of disappointment in Bobbi’s eyes, but Clint’s hopeful expression said more than enough, and her head was still spinning.

Darcy took a moment to formulate a response. “You do realize that I’m a civilian poli-sci major who tests smartphone apps for a living, right?”

“And?” Clint blinked. “I was a circus performer.”

“It’s refreshing, actually.” Bobbi offered a smile in response to Darcy’s baffled look. “According to my ex-husband, I’m an evil demonic hell-beast.”

Darcy had nothing she could say in response to that.

“If you’d like, I’ll formally declare it a friendship offer instead.” Bobbi’s expression softened as Darcy stayed silent. “You’re not bound to anything unless you want to be, and neither are we.”

“But we’d like to be,” Clint chimed in, winking. “Just to clarify.” He winced when Bobbi punched him in the shoulder.

Darcy looked down at the clothes in her arms, then back up. “Can you change your offer later?” she asked carefully, and Bobbi’s lips curled up slightly. “If I say I’d like to consent to a friendship offer first?”

“Yes,” the woman said simply, and Darcy nodded.

“Then I accept your offer of friendship and camaraderie.” Darcy shucked off her jacket and slipped the sweater over her t-shirt, yanking down her jeans in a smooth move that had her blushing. She could feel the burning gazes trailing over her bared legs as she pulled the leggings up and over pale skin, and Clint actually sighed aloud as the elastic snapped against her waist.

“What I wouldn’t give…” she heard him mutter, and Darcy felt her ears burning as she began stuffing her clothes in her bag. She caught the sight of Bobbi’s nostrils flaring as the Alpha and Beta scents mixed with her Omega pheromones, the mixture pleasantly fragrant.

“… high compatibility.” Darcy was pretty sure she wasn’t supposed to hear any of Bobbi’s mutterings, but she was tucked against Clint’s side too quickly to think to much of it.

“What are you – ?” Her brain short-circuited when Bobbi neatly stepped around to her other side, leaning in and slipping an arm over her shoulder so she was sandwiched between the two SHIELD agents. At the gently nudging against her back, Darcy could only follow as the three of them stepped out into the open street, Bobbi leading the way through the crowd as Darcy was hidden from view by their taller forms and their scents.

* * *

Later that night, Darcy stared down at the soft tank and boxer shorts lying on the bed of her guest room at the Tower.

Getting _two_ – and yes, she was counting the first one, even though she accepted it as a friendship instead – courtship offers from a gorgeous Alpha and a muscly Beta was not what Darcy was expecting when she got out from work earlier that afternoon, but she supposed it could’ve been much worse.

Perhaps today wasn’t so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so late that I really have no excuses. 
> 
> I wrote and rewrote this prompt four times with different pairings. Somehow, my muse didn't want to cooperate, and I it wasn't until I tried this one that it sort of worked -- ish. I'm a little hesitant about posting this, but I figured that it's been over a month and I've been itching to work on some other stuff, so here it goes. Hopefully it's not too out of the ballpark, but meh. Definitely one of the tougher ones to write.


	30. freedom in fear (darcy x lance)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **zombie au** \+ daemon au, darcy lewis x lance hunter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just FYI, no actual zombies or fighting -- my brain went in a totally different direction. Sorry :(

_Souls are difference between the living and the dead._

* * *

Blinking against the blazing sun shining through the windshield of the hot-wired truck, Darcy slowed to a stop as she saw the blockade of abandoned cars, left haphazard around the parking lot entrance of a deserted gas station and convenience store, with diner pit stop on the other side of the lot.

"What d'you think?" At her side, Isillo blinked slowly, ears perked as he looked through the window. 

"Six, seven walkers milling through the diner, but you should be fine." He sniffed the air, nose crinkling. "There's lots of gas out there." 

"Great." She killed the engine, popping the door open slowly and stepping out, heading towards the nearest car with empty gasoline canisters in hand. Isillo stalked behind her silent and slow, body tense and poised to attack as he kept watch. 

"Come on, baby," she muttered, humming lowly in triumph when she managed to pry open the gas valve and siphon a good canister's worth of gas from the tank. Doing the same to three more cars, she tossed the filled cans into the truck bed, pausing with one foot in the car as she looked back. 

Isillo growled lowly. "Darcy..."

Her stomach rumbled in hunger, a stark reminder of the empty icebox sitting in the back seat, and she glanced back at the convenience store, the windows boarded up and the front doors padlocked. 

"Don't even think about it." 

Darcy sighed wistfully. "I haven't eaten in _days_ \-- "

Isillo cut her off, his tail twitching in agitation as he huffed. "I smell a group of walkers heading this way, less than ten minutes out – and you lost your knives the last time we got caught in the tail of that herd in Denver."

"So we go the old fashioned way." Darcy pulled the baseball bat from under the front seat, a metal one with flecks of paint and dried blood, and hefted an axe from the same place. Holding them up, she turned to Isillo, asking, "Which one?" 

Isillo sighed, ears twitching. "You know you're better with a bat." 

"Bat it is, then." Darcy tossed the axe into the backseat, quietly shutting the truck door as she slung the weapon over her shoulder. "Let's go." 

"This is such a bad idea," Isillo muttered lowly, but Darcy was too hungry to pay him any mind. 

* * *

Darcy froze as she heard the sound of glass shattering, trading looks with Isillo as she quietly ducked behind the cash register, slinging the pack filled with rations across her chest as she withdrew a machete from the makeshift sheath at her waist, her free hand hovering over the gun at her thigh holster.

“Damn walkers.” Male, with a touch of pain in his voice – Darcy exchanged looks with Isillo, who sniffed the air experimentally.

“Gunpowder, sweat, and iron,” Isillo murmured softly, and at his grave look Darcy tensed. “He’s bleeding." 

“Bitten?” The word came out lower than a whisper, covered by the sound of crunching glass as the man moved around the tiny convenience store.

Isillo shrugged, and Darcy bit her lip. Jerking her head towards the side aisles, Isillo nodded in understanding and slunk off into the dusty darkness, and Darcy peeked around the edge of the counter.

The man was dark-haired and tall, hair cropped short in a grown-out buzz cut that did little to hide his handsome features, twisted in a grimace. Darcy had to squint a little in the dim light, but there was a swatch of red smeared against the dark fabric of his cargo pants, and another patch staining the abdomen of his dirty shirt – both too small to be walker bites, but one could never be too careful. Standing up, she pulled out her gun and aimed it in the man’s direction, stepping out from the counter silently until she had a clear shot.

“You okay?” Darcy nearly pulled the trigger of the pistol as a knife whistled past her ear, flinching back at the last second. “Dude, what the fuck?”

“Who the hell are you?” It was less of a question and more of a demand, the hostility weakening her resolve a little, but Darcy hadn’t lived for this long just to be intimidated and offed by some paranoid nutjob.

“Considering how I’m the one who isn’t injured, I think I’ll be asking the questions thanks,” Darcy said shortly. “You got bitten?”

“Got into a fight a ways back. It’s not mine.” The man looked down at his wounds again, shaking his head.

“Good.” Darcy lowered the gun. “Killing the infected is not something I’d consider fun.” 

“Who would?” the man muttered, but he went back to staring her down with a dark glower. “… What are _you_ doing here?”

“Trying to find some food, that’s all.” The man’s eyes darted to the bulging bag hanging at Darcy’s hip, his shoulders relaxing minutely, but the wary look in his eyes remained. “What brings you to the middle of bumfuck Kansas?”

“Nothing that concerns you,” the man said shortly, and Darcy sniffed a little. Tall, dark, handsome, British – and a douchebag to boot.

 _Wonderful_.

“Suit yourself.” Darcy tucked the gun back into her holster, but kept the machete in hand as she clicked her tongue. “Isi, we’re good.”

“He nearly killed you,” he growled, and the man jumped as Isillo slunk out of the shadows, his eyes glinting as he stalked to Darcy’s side.

“A cougar daemon?” He looked surprised, and Darcy bristled at the disbelieving tone.

“You want to say something?” Isillo snarled, and the man looked taken aback at his protectiveness, but his expression quickly hardened.

“No.” The man fell silent, staring at Darcy as if he was still deciding whether to kill her, but his head snapped back to the broken window as a silhouetted form appeared against the sunlight.

“Alright there, Lance?” When her eyes finally adjusted, Darcy inhaled sharply at the leopard peering through the broken window, paws resting on the windowsill as she peered into the store.

An honest-to-god _leopard_ , speaking with a British accent in the middle of Kansas prairie land – just when Darcy thought the world couldn’t get any stranger. 

“I told you not to call me that,” the man hissed, even though there was no real venom in his tone as he glared at the animal.

“Your daemon is a leopard?” It was Darcy’s turn to gape a little. After the outbreak, she’d heard rumors of daemons _re_ -settling, into predators like falcons and hawks, or wolves and dogs. Large feline daemons, aside from the occasional fox and house-cat types, were a rarity – Isillo had been stared at enough by the few survivors they’d run across in the past few months.

There was one girl Darcy remembered back in the early days that had a lion daemon. Sadly, neither the girl nor lion were the vigilant types – last she heard, the girl had been bitten, and her daemon had exploded into Dust when she turned.

The man grit his teeth. “That’s none of your – ”

“Why _yes_ , I am, actually,” the daemon interrupted pointedly, throwing the man a look. “It’s nice to finally meet someone who can tell the difference between a leopard and a jaguar.” Her eyes suddenly focused on Darcy, the dark orbs dropping to Isillo’s tense form at her side, and she blinked. “Might I ask who _you_ are?”

“They were scavenging for food.” The man glanced back at them, but when Darcy cocked an eyebrow in challenge, he said nothing more. The leopard cocked her head to the side, and then sighed in exasperation.

“And it seems my human has seen it fit to lose his manners.” The leopard rolled her eyes, and if Darcy wasn’t so in shock she’d laugh at the gesture – it looked so _human_ at that moment. “My name is Duma – it’s nice to meet you both.”

“Call me Lewis, and this is Isillo.” The cougar brushed against Darcy’s calves, eyes trained on the feline in the window in curiosity.

Isillo nodded. “Hello.”

“Pleasure,” the leopard drawled, turning her eyes to the man again. She managed to school her feline features into an expression that looked a lot like a disapproving nun, and Darcy bit back a giggle at the image as the man wilted a little under the stern gaze. “… Lance, walking corpses are _not_ an excuse for bad manners.”

“Don’t call me that,” he scowled, but muttered begrudgingly, “The name’s Hunter.”

The name sounded so familiar, but it took Darcy a second to place the name to the man’s face.

“Wait a sec, Lance Hunter?” She frowned, the name setting off a ton of bells in her head. “As in, the Lance Hunter that was with SHIELD before the outbreak?”

“How do you know that?” The man narrowed her eyes, hands reaching for what Darcy finally recognized as knife holsters strapped to his belt.

“You were part of Coulson’s team on the Bus,” Darcy said frankly, a little stunned as things just kept coming back, and the former director’s name seemed to startle Hunter, as he reared back a little. “I was on the comms with the Avengers when they made contact with you guys – wasn’t actually _there_ , obviously, but I helped Jarvis pull up your files.”

“… You have me at a disadvantage then.” He drew his hand away slowly, staring at her with an inscrutable expression. “What was your name again?”

Darcy sighed, sheathing the machete. “Lewis. Or Darcy, if you prefer.”

“The intern of Jane Foster,” he said immediately, and when she raised an eyebrow he shrugged. “When SHIELD fell you were marked as an asset in our database – I was supposed to try and recruit you, but Coulson figured that at the time you were busy with your own… affairs, for lack of a better term.”

“Well, there was the whole dark elves thing, Ultron, and then the Outbreak, so yeah, I’d say so.” Darcy pursed her lips, studying him as she said, “But last I heard, you guys got swarmed in Chile before going dark. If you made it out…”

“They’re gone.” Hunter’s expression darkened. “May and Skye were out on an op, but the radio died when we were swarmed... Coulson and Mack were bitten.”

_I had to kill them._

The unspoken truth lingered in the air, and Darcy stared at him, empathy filling her chest. “Jane got bit too,” she said softly, swallowing thickly. “Thor couldn’t do it, so I had to…"

“I’m sorry, love.” Blinking, Darcy pushed back the hurt that still welled in her chest, nodding slightly at the softer expression on the man’s face. “You heading somewhere in particular?”

Darcy was quiet for a moment, but she figured she’d tell him – if Coulson had vetted him, he had to be decent at the very least. “I was in New Mexico when the outbreak hit, but Maria got me a message before the radio lines got cut. If you’re not otherwise occupied…”

“Do I look like I have travel plans to you?” he deadpanned, but he looked hopeful. “You got coordinates?”

“And a truck parked out back.” Darcy hummed. “Said to head north, near Nova Scotia I think.”

“You mean the Ford parked on the road?” At her nod, he grinned. “Good choice. So we just gotta make a break for it – ”

"Mm, I don’t think so," Duma interjected mildly. “There's at least thirty walkers out there.” Hunter scrubbed the stubble on his chin with his hand, muttering a little to himself, and Darcy strode to the back window to peek through the blinds, wincing as she saw at least seven of them crowded around her truck in curiosity.

"There’s no clear shot through – all the cars are in the way." Darcy bit back a groan. “We’re gonna have to bulldoze through somehow.”

"Don’t sound so annoyed, Darcy." Isillo barked in laughter, and Darcy rolled her eyes as he stretched, claws slipping against the once-polished concrete floor. “You were the one who just _had_ to get the Twinkies.” He exchanged amused looks with Duma.

“ _Humans_.” Duma shook her head with fond exasperation.

"You _know_ how hard it is to find Twinkies, and you expect me to just let them sit in here?" Darcy patted her bag, the golden-colored pastries stuffed between packs of jerky and Gatorade.

“Twinkies?” Hunter wrinkled his nose. “You actually eat the blasted things?”

“They’re _delicious_ ,” Darcy said fervently.

“They’re _revolting_ ,” Hunter countered with a grimace. “You bloody Americans. I’ll stick to the decent stuff, thanks.” As if to emphasize his point, he grabbed a couple cans of beans and stuffed them into the backpack sitting at his feet, along with a few bottles of water and the entire stock of chocolate trail mix.

“You know that those are basically all sugar, right?” He looked at her archly.

“A bit of chocolate never hurt – ” he waved the handful of snacks in the air for emphasis, “– while your beloved Twinkies are processed faux-pastry products filled with sugar and chemicals. There is no comparison.”

Isillo barked in laughter, and Duma rolled her eyes. “He used to be much more charming, I promise you.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Darcy rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hide the twitch when Hunter sent her a panty-dropping smirk on purpose. _Goddammit_.

“So what’s the plan?” Isillo stretched, claws slipping against the once-polished concrete floor. He exchanged looked with Duma. "Shall we take the rear, then?"

“I’m quite flexible, personally.” Duma shrugged, leaping gracefully through the opening and landing on the floor primly. There was something so ladylike about the cat, but Darcy had no doubts that Hunter could be equally suave if he tried – the man _was_ one of Coulson’s jack-booted thugs, after all.  “But the last time I took point Lance got all prickly when he got left behind.”

“For Christ’s sake, I got held up!” Hunter groaned, and Duma shot Darcy a conspiratorial wink that had Darcy chuckling.

“His ego needs to be popped every now and then,” Duma informed her, and behind her Hunter threw his hands in the air.

“I give up, you’re worse than the she-devil _and_ Mum combined.”

Darcy beamed as Isillo purred in laughter. "Duma, I think this is the start of a wonderful friendship."

Duma hummed, rubbing against Darcy’s legs as she purred. “It will be so nice to have some real company.”

“Am I chopped liver, then?” Hunter’s eye twitched.

“Dear, you’re my human – you don’t count.” Darcy outright laughed at that, and Duma really _did_ sound like a mother as she chided, “Come on now, Lance, we don’t have all day." 

Hunter grumbled as he finished stuffing his pack and secured it to his back, stepping forward to where Darcy was waiting by the back door.

As the two felines fell behind them, muttering lowly to each other, Hunter rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he caught sight of the knife stuck into the wall. When Darcy yanked it out, offering it back to him wordlessly, she blinked a little as he took it, muttering sheepishly, “Sorry ‘bout the whole – ” he waved the knife around a little, “ – you know.”

Darcy shrugged. “Better to be paranoid than dead, dude – can’t really begrudge you there.” She gave him a smile. “Ready?”

“I was born ready, sweetheart,” he replied dryly. With a shared glance, together they kicked down the door, leaping out into the fray as Isillo and Duma bounded after them with bared fangs and extended claws. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M DONE. **FINALLY.**
> 
> Holy shit. I can't believe it. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who read, commented, bookmarked, and left kudos -- you guys encouraged me to continue, even when I thought I was kidding myself about writing for a month straight. Disregard that these last two chapters are over a month late please, February only had 28 days this year ;P
> 
> I'll be working on the next part of **hold my hand** and the last chapter of **evening star** , so keep an eye out for those! 
> 
> Also, I'll be posting brief continuations of some of the chapters from this challenge. Off the top of my head, the prompts for Darcy/Thor, Darcy/Edwin, and Darcy/Fandral, but if there are any others you'd like to see, let me know! 
> 
> Thank you again, and see you next time :)

**Author's Note:**

> Here goes nothing! 
> 
> **Title is from _Wuthering Heights_ , by Emily Bronte.  
> **Quote is from _Sonnet LXXIII_ , by Pablo Neruda.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Love me like the world is ending](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4333362) by [Lavanyalabelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavanyalabelle/pseuds/Lavanyalabelle)




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